


Tripping Along

by gr324221



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr324221/pseuds/gr324221
Summary: "The Black Prince" has a bone to pick with a certain criminal organization that's been haunting the city for decades. Fortunately, he has a best friend with profound healing abilities, so he doesn't have to do it alone.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title is a reference to "tripping along" by the decemberists, which has no bearing on the plot; i just listened to it a lot while i was writing this.)
> 
> my little nephews went through a serious 'incredibles' and 'miraculous ladybug' phase (both of which kick ass, ngl), and i sorta fell in love with the whole campy superhero thing, where ridiculous costumed superheroes are a normal part of society, and masked vigilantism is just an everyday thing in The Big City, ya know? 
> 
> so... this is something I've been working on since... april-ish? and by that I mean I wrote the first 13 chapters one week in april, then refused to finish it until now. and wow, it REALLY wasn't supposed to be this long. this is without a shadow of a doubt the longest thing i've ever written, and one thing i've learned is that i'm just not suited for long stories like this.
> 
> this fic is comprised mostly of snippets, following a singular plot, with (small) time-jumps and flashbacks in between. it's pretty simple stuff. and it's got all those tropes you know and love; it's got coffee shops, it's got bookstores, it's got that "we have to share a bed" thing. look, i'm just having fun here.
> 
> the rating is a VERY soft M. there are very few depictions of violence, and the ones that are depicted are fairly tame; if you're into WoW, you're probably used to a greater level of violence than this. It's got swears, and it's got smooches, but no explicit sexytimes (however, they are implied). it would probably be better off rated T, but better safe than sorry.

As far as roommates went, Anduin wouldn't consider Wrathion a _bad_ one.

It helped that they'd been coworkers for nearly a year before moving in together. Shortly before his 18th birthday, Anduin got a job working at a bookstore owned by a kind, older man named Tong. Wrathion had been working there for a few months already and although Tong was happy to train him, Wrathion immediately took Anduin under his wing, eager to show him the ropes. This quickly turned into a casual friendship; witty banter over chess games between customers, snarky comments on each other's reading choices, lunches together in the back of Tong's bookshop... Anduin quickly learned that the younger man was remarkably clever, and at times _dangerously_ passionate about issues close to his heart. He was also a flirt; he was frighteningly good at reading people, therefore it wasn't a surprise that Wrathion was absolutely adored by their customers.

After many months of working together, Anduin casually mentioned that he was looking to move out of his father's house, lamenting the high cost of living in the city.

“I'll have to get a roommate,” he sighed, organizing a stack of books to be shelved later, “And it'll have to be a stranger, seeing as I don't have any friends in Stormwind.”

Wrathion was sitting at the front desk near him, examining a box of new releases that'd just come in. His head shot up at Anduin's words, lips forming a mischievous smile that he _knew_ would mean trouble.

“What?” he said, eyeing Wrathion suspiciously.

“Well, my friend, you know that as of last month, I am _legally_ able to move out of Fahrad's home,” he spoke casually, “so perhaps I could be your roommate? I'm not a _total_ stranger, and I know how to use a vacuum, so that _should_ put me ahead of the competition a bit.”

He finished with a charming smile and a wink, and Anduin felt a faint blush rise to his cheeks. But he knew the idea was solid; Wrathion had been a good friend to him already, even if they rarely saw each other outside work hours, and he knew him well enough to know that he'd probably be a pretty tidy, respectful roommate. So he agreed.

Wrathion shot to his feet and grinned.

“Excellent! So, how exactly do we go about finding a place to live?”

“You know,” Tong called out from the back room before stepping out to join them, “I own several properties around around the city. I have tenants moving out at the end of next month, and I think their apartment would be well within your budgets.”

And that's how Wrathion became his roommate, and his boss became his landlord.

* * *

They'd grown much closer as friends in the four months since they'd moved in together. They'd quickly gone from casual work friends to inseparable dynamic duo. Anduin became privy to many things about his new best friend.

First, he was something of a master craftsman. That wasn't exactly surprising; anyone who visited the shop enough times would eventually see Wrathion, sitting with his feet propped up on a table, knitting a sock on a few short, dainty needles. But that wasn't nearly the extent of it. Anduin had once wondered if Wrathion's clothing was custom tailored to him, noticing how perfectly everything he owned seemed to fit him. After moving in together, he found out that Wrathion had actually sewn much of his own clothing, and would alter clothing that he bought.

Wrathion had always had something of a “bad boy” vibe, as his Aunt Jaina had so eloquently put it after visiting Anduin at work one day. Anduin had to agree. Wrathion's hair was _long_ , a mop of elegant black curls that Anduin now knew fell past his shoulders, though he always kept it up in a loose bun or a ponytail. He also had several piercings in both ears, and seemed to have a particular love for leather jackets. That, in addition to his surprising talents, led Anduin to feel that Wrathion was very, very attractive.

Though, another thing that Anduin had learned since moving in with him was that Wrathion didn't date.

Despite his ability to flirt shamelessly with anyone who he felt might be receptive to such a thing (Anduin included), he simply didn't date. He didn't bring anyone home, he turned down customers offers of coffee dates (though graciously accepted offered phone numbers, which he'd throw out after work), and he never went out. In fact, it didn't seem like Wrathion had very many friends, either. Anduin knew about Fahrad, his adoptive father that Wrathion treated more like a friend, but beyond that, he didn't know about Wrathion's friends. Thus, Anduin had come to terms with the fact that Wrathion would never be able to offer him more anything than friendship, and he was okay with that.

However, lately he wondered if Wrathion was simply hiding his dating habits from him. Anduin had noticed a certain odd behavior from Wrathion in the last few weeks: they'd get home from work, Wrathion would scarf down whatever dinner they'd picked up on their way home, and then excuse himself to bed. Wrathion tended to go to bed early anyway, being a responsible young adult and all, but it was getting absurd. He was going off to bed as early as 6 in the evening, and Anduin thought that was _ridiculous_. Even more ridiculous was the fact that Wrathion would seem _exhausted_ the morning afterward.

Anduin had to admit that it hurt, just a bit, that Wrathion felt he had to sneak around. Still, despite how close they'd grown in the last few months, he knew that Wrathion was allowed to have his secrets, despite how obvious he was making it that he _had_ secrets.

* * *

It was the morning after one of Wrathion's potential sneak-outs and as Anduin had predicted yesterday evening, he was completely exhausted. He prepared Wrathion's coffee for him that morning, exactly how he knew he liked it (slightly sweet, more creamer than not, and as hot as he could physically get it), handed him his travel mug, and drove them to work.

When Wrathion dozed off during the drive, one arm hugging his knees and the other holding his coffee, all Anduin could do was gently pull the mug from his grip and set it down in the cup holder. Aunt Jaina would _kill_ him if he spilled coffee in the car she bought him.

Wrathion improved after they'd gotten settled in at work and he'd finished drinking another coffee that Anduin prepared for him, though his exhaustion was still obvious. Anduin _desperately_ wanted to tease him for it, but decided against it. In all honesty, he was starting to worry. He knew that if he _was_ sneaking out, then his sleep-deprivation was entirely on him, and he shouldn't worry about it. But he also knew that Wrathion was prone to nightmares, and began to wonder if maybe they were interfering with his sleep.

_Next time,_ Anduin thought to himself, _if he does this again, I'll talk to him about it._

Anduin finished up his morning duties (and some of Wrathion's, which wasn't unusual) and sat at one of the stores small tables across from Wrathion, with a cup of Tong's favorite tea and his phone to read today's local news. Wrathion was playing some puzzle game on his phone, trying to keep his brain active so he wouldn't fall asleep. The fact that he was playing a game at least told Anduin that he'd be open to conversation.

“Hey, this says that the police raided another Blacktalon compound outside the city. Nearly two dozen arrests this time,” Anduin told him, hoping to pique his interest, “that's, what, the fourth this month? This 'Black Prince' really has it out for them.”

“Good riddance,” Wrathion didn't look up from his phone, but Anduin didn't miss the small smirk on his lips.

He was right, Anduin knew. The Blacktalons were a scourge on the city, and had been for decades. They were even responsible for his mother's death, when he was just an infant. Though, that was one of just a few secrets he couldn't tell Wrathion. Not yet, anyway.

He almost felt envious of “the Black Prince”, as he presented himself to law enforcement. The Prince was one of the city's few active superheroes at the moment, and the only one brave enough to take on the Blacktalons directly. Sure, there were a handful that went around fighting petty criminals, stopping muggings and bank robberies. They'd don their masks and costumes and speak to reporters about making the city a safer place and all that.

The Black Prince wasn't like them. Not at all.

First of all, it wasn't even a known fact that he was a _super_ hero. He'd never been seen in action, or even _inaction_. It was assumed that he was a superhero, because how else could he take on the _Blacktalons,_ but his abilities were entirely unknown. He was clearly a skilled fighter, judging by the conditions some guards within the facilities were found in, though nothing more than that was known. It wasn't even known if his skills were _superhumanly_ good.

Then there was the fact that he didn't make media appearances, or, again, _any_ appearances. Many heroes in the city cared just as much about the glory and attention as they did the actual act of saving people. The Black Prince communicated directly with law enforcement in secret, through texts from burner phones and written notes within the Blacktalon compounds themselves, left for the police to find during their raids. He'd let the police know the location of the Blacktalon facility, and although there's clear evidence that someone had been through there, by the time they show up to raid the building, the Black Prince is long gone.

Most people believed that the Black Prince _was_ a Blacktalon. The name was certainly suspicious, and it would explain how he was able to infiltrate their facilities. However, his goal was obvious: to destroy the Blacktalons. And so far, he was doing a damn good job. More than any other hero had done, anyway.

The people in the city were scared of the Blacktalons, and rightfully so. They were dangerous. Nobody knew the full extent of their criminal operations, though it was known to range from drug manufacturing _all_ the way up to _actual_ human experimentation, based on some of the equipment found in the facilities exposed by the Black Prince. According to the police and the media reports, the discovery of medical equipment in one of the Blacktalon facilities led the police to Victor Nefarian, a prominent figure in one of the city's largest medical corporations. However, they must not have found any solid evidence connecting him to the Blacktalons, seeing as he was still a free man.

Anduin sighed and turned off his phone before getting up to busy himself with work around the shop. He wondered, idly, about the Black Prince. What kind of person was he? Had he lost someone to them, just as he himself had? Did he really have the city's best interests at heart, or was he on a personal revenge mission?

In the end, Anduin decided, it didn't matter, as long as the Blacktalons were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin worries about his friend.

It was nearing midnight, and Anduin was still lounging on the couch. He knew he should be off to bed, but instead he was worrying about his friend.

Wrathion had “gone to bed” nearly five hours ago. On many other nights, Wrathion would be right there on the couch with him, watching a movie and talking over it. He didn't even know if Wrathion was _home_. He tried texting him earlier that evening, just a cute cat photo he'd found just to see if he'd get a response, and was dismayed when he heard Wrathion's text tone from his room. Wherever he was, he didn't have his phone.

Just as Anduin began the mental preparations to get up and walk to his room, he was startled by a loud, heavy thud in the direction of Wrathion's room. He was on his feet in an instant, and hurried over to Wrathion's room.

“Wrathion?” he called out, rapping on the door a few times, “Are you okay?”

“Ah! Yes, I'm fine,” he heard Wrathion say from inside, and he was flooded with relief, “I just... fell out of bed. I'm fine, don't come in.” He finished his sentence hurriedly.

“Oh, okay. If you're sure,” Anduin said, somewhat hesitantly. He was relieved to know that Wrathion _was_ home, though he wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't hiding something. However, he decided that it was none of his business, and that was that. “Goodnight, Wrathion.”

He turned away to head toward his own room, but was drawn back when he heard Wrathion call out his name.

“Yeah?” he said, returning to Wrathion's door.

“Anduin, I lied,” his voice was quiet, almost sheepish through the door, “I didn't fall out of bed. I, ah, need help, I think. Please come in.”

Anduin didn't hesitate.

Wrathion's room was dark. He immediately scanned the room, looking for his friend, and was surprised when he didn't see him. Faint light was pouring in from the streetlights outside Wrathion's large, _open_ window on the far wall of his room.

“Down here,” Wrathion said. A hand shot up from behind the bed, beneath that large window. In the dark, Anduin thought that Wrathion was wearing a gauntlet of some kind; his hand was a metallic, scale-like texture that shimmered in the light. His fingernails, normally a short, well-manicured matte black almost looked like talons. The hand disappeared behind the bed. “You may want to turn on the light. Just, don't freak out, please?”

Anduin snorted and flipped on the switch. Was he wearing a costume? Was his big, _shameful_ secret that he was a cosplayer or something? He approached Wrathion's bed.

To his great shame, he jumped in surprise when he turned the corner and saw his friend lying on the floor.

“You're making me self-conscious,” Wrathion deadpanned.

Anduin could only stare in shock.

Wrathion was... definitely not wearing a costume. Or, if he was, it was an absurdly good one.

He was wearing what Anduin could only describe as some sort of stealth, tactical gear. That was hardly the strangest part of his whole ensemble, though. He could see, now, that it wasn't a gauntlet he was wearing, it was just his _skin_ . The palms of his hands weren't the same scaly texture, but the skin looked rough and thick. The texture was also visible on his neck, with some of the scaliness running up one cheek before fading into his normal, dark complexion. His eyes were red, and _glowing_. He had horns, thick, dark and ridged, emerging from his hairline and winding back through his loose curls.

“Listen,” Wrathion started, “I can explain. I just... need help.”

“Oh,” Anduin said, faintly, before noticing the way Wrathion had his hand pressed to his abdomen, visible wetness seeping through his shirt and turning his hand red, "Wrathion, you're bleeding!”

“Thanks for noticing.”

“Come on, we need to get you up,” he carefully grabbed Wrathion's other hand, minding the actual _talons_ , to help him into a sitting position before pulling him to his feet, the pushing him to sit on the edge of his bed. He noticed that Wrathion's skin was hot. Like, scarily _hot_. “Lie down, let me see.”

“Ugh, I don't want to get blood on my sheets,” Wrathion groaned dramatically, “Can't we do this in your bed?”

“So you'd rather bleed on _my_ sheets?” Anduin thinks that if Wrathion wasn't possibly bleeding out, he might smack him.

“Yes,” he replied with a wicked smile. Anduin could see that some of his teeth were actually pointed.

Anduin simply rolled his eyes and firmly pushed Wrathion down onto his back, sat down on the bed beside him, and pushed up his shirt to examine his wound. The skin here faded from scaliness along the sides to Wrathion's own, normal skin texture around his stomach, where the wound was. Anduin had never actually seen a stab wound before, but he recognized it instantly.

“Wrathion,” Anduin said softly, “this is really bad.” He swallowed thickly before continuing, “Why did you come here instead of a hospital, or something?”

“I didn't realize how bad it was until I got here,” Wrathion spoke uncharacteristically quietly, and he chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “They saw me. They're going to be looking for me. If I go to a hospital, in _this_ condition,” he gestured to his whole body, which Anduin took to mean that he was referring to his appearance, not his injury, “they'll find me.”

“I can help, I think.” Anduin pressed his hand to Wrathion's wound.

Wrathion had closed his eyes, mostly because of nerves, partially because of the pain. After Anduin spoke, though, the pain started to fade, turning into something of a growing, calming warmth. It grew and grew until the pain was _gone_ , and then that _warmth_ was gone. All that was left was the soft pressure of Anduin's hand and the cooling wetness of blood. Anduin pulled his hand away, and it was like Wrathion snapped out of a trance. His eyes shot open and stared at Anduin in disbelief.

His hand was covered in blood, but it was _glowing_. A beautiful, white-gold light shone from his palm. Anduin gave him a small, nervous smile, and the light faded. He let his hand fall into his lap. Wrathion ran his own fingers along the skin of stomach, feeling for the wound. He felt nothing but what seemed to be a faint scar, right along where he knew the stab was.

“I'm sorry,” Anduin said softly, “I can't keep it from scarring.”

Wrathion sat up, slowly, never taking his eyes off Anduin.

“Anduin, my dearest friend,” he started, almost breathlessly, “what the _fuck_?”

“ _What_ ?” Anduin sputtered, “you're asking _me_ that? You come home looking like _this_ , with a _stab wound_ , and you're asking me that? What even _are_ you?”

“That's not very nice,” Wrathion said with a huff, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I... I'm sorry,” Anduin said, pressing a non-bloody palm to his forehead, “I'm sorry. I'm just... confused, I guess?”

“You shouldn't be. It seems we're actually very similar,” Wrathion gave him a gentle, genuine smile, and took his hand. Anduin looked down at it, his own hand in Wrathion's, human but _not_. Suddenly, the skin and scales shimmered ever-so-slightly, and just like that, his friend looked normal again. Just his normal, smooth skin, his eyes were their usual deep brown shade, and there were absolutely no horns to speak of.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he said after a moment, “I don't use that form when I do my _superhero_ work.” Anduin notes the almost mocking way he said the word 'superhero', “I have a much smaller, much less _human_ form that I shift into. Mostly because I can _fly_ in that form, but it's also quite stealthy. I guess I got stuck in-between because of the wound.”

“The wound,” Anduin repeated, “how did you end up getting stabbed, Wrathion?”

Wrathion nervously chewed on his lip again, avoiding meeting Anduin's eye.

“I don't know that I want to talk about it,” he spoke slowly, “I don't know that I want you to get involved any more than this.”

“You don't have to keep secrets from me, Wrathion.” He took a risk. He reached up and gently cupped Wrathion's jaw, lifting his head to force him to meet his gaze, “We're _friends_ . You're my _best_ friend. I tried to be a hero, once. I was fifteen, and I ended up being thrown from a sixth-story window. It's taken me years to recover from that.” Wrathion remembered the way Anduin sometimes walked with a cane when he first started at Tong's bookstore, on days when the weather was bad. “Whatever trouble you're in, maybe I can help. You don't have to save the world all on your own, you know.”

He tried to play his last sentence as a good-natured joke, but Anduin was scared. Scared that whatever trouble Wrathion was in, maybe he wasn't one of the heroes. He didn't quite look like one, with his stealth gear and his, frankly, _terrifying_ alternate appearance. But Wrathion held his gaze, staring into his eyes like he was staring into his soul and judging what he was seeing. Finally, Wrathion spoke.

“I'm the Black Prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm an idiot and meant to publish the whole thing at once, but apparently i only published the first chapter. my bad.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrathion has a bad night.

Wrathion stifled a yawn behind his hand. He was tired, but sneaking into this facility had been a _breeze_.

He was sitting with his boots propped up on the desk, letting the chair swivel from side to side as he waited for the files to transfer from the computer onto his own drive. It was thousands of documents, but Wrathion would have time to look through them tomorrow when he's supposed to be working. Two more minutes. Wrathion wasn't even a _little_ worried; this particular section of the building was practically abandoned at this time of night, and the night patrol wasn't due for at least another 20 minutes. He'd be long gone by then.

When the transfer was complete, he stood triumphantly, removed the drive, and shut off the computer... to be polite, of course. He tucked his drive safely away in one of the many small, hidden pockets he'd incorporated into his outfit before pulling his black cloth mask over the lower portion of his face. _This was easy_ , he thought, and immediately wanted to smack himself, _okay, I'm blaming this one on the exhaustion._

As if on cue, the office door slammed open and three guards armed with pistols stepped through. In an instant, Wrathion shifted into his creature form and fluttered onto one of the filing cabinets against the wall next to the door. His small, black form blended in easily with the darkness of the office, and Wrathion held his breath.

“He couldn't have gone anywhere,” one of the guards barked. Wrathion let out a silent sigh of relief; they hadn't seen him transform. The guards stepped forward a few feet, looking around the room frantically, and Wrathion took that opportunity to quietly flutter out the door behind them. As soon as he was out into the hallway, he landed on the floor and quickly and silently retraced his steps toward the exit of the facility. The hallway was thankfully empty, but he could hear commotion behind him. He wasn't sure if he'd been spotted yet, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out.

He knew he was close to the exit, but before he could reach it, he felt a hand grab him by the scruff of his neck. He writhed and struck out with his sharp talons, trying to wiggle out of their grip, but another hand roughly grabbed his paws and picked him up like his was nothing more than a small, ill-behaved dog.

“Ha! Look, I've got him- _ah_ !” the man's voice was cut off by a scream as Wrathion effortlessly and _savagely_ sunk his teeth through his thick glove, into his hand. He shook his head a bit, for good measure. The man dropped him but before he hand the chance to scamper away, another hand pulled him by the wing, lifting him into the air. Wrathion hissed, lashing out with teeth and claws, failing to make contact with anything. He screeched when he felt the sharp bite of a dagger pierce his side.

“No, _no_ , you _idiots_ ! I said _alive_ ,” a voice boomed from behind them. Wrathion squirmed in the guards grip to get a look at who was yelling, and his blood ran cold. It was Victor Nefarian, in the flesh, standing not six feet from himself, yelling that he wanted Wrathion _alive_ . That was very bad news; Wrathion had certainly _desired_ a confrontation with the man, but not like this. He wasn't ready. He was starting to panic, so he did something he'd never done before: he took a deep breath, and _blew_.

A massive plume of fire poured from his mouth. It was just a small burst, enough aimed at their feet to terrify, and possibly mildly burn, them into dropped him. The fire enveloped him, but the heat didn't even phase him, not in this form. As he predicted, they screamed and dropped him to the floor, allowing him to scamper away to freedom. He no longer cared about being seen by the remaining guards; he just wanted to get away. As he ran, he could've sworn that he heard Nefarian laugh.

He barreled through the doors leading out of the building and immediately took flight. He didn't bother stopping for his car, parked nearly a mile away. He flew, ignoring the biting pain in his side, for nearly twenty minutes before reaching his own bedroom window, on the first floor of their apartment building. He pried it open, mindful not to scratch the paint lest Tong be the one to kill him, and finally shifted back into his human form. His legs gave out, sending him to the floor with a loud thud.

He groaned and let his head fall back onto the soft carpeting. He pressed his fingers to his side, feeling wetness starting to seep through the dense fabric of his shirt. He also realized that he _wasn't_ in his human form; his skin was still scaly, and one hand reached up to feel the length of one of his horns.

There was a sharp knocking on his door.

“Wrathion? Are you okay?” Anduin's voice called out. Wrathion hissed quietly to himself, struggling to form an answer. He wasn't okay, but he couldn't tell _Anduin_ that. Before he could even process what he was saying, he was lying. He'd “fallen out of bed”, as if Anduin would believe such a thing. But... he did.

“...if you're sure.”

Wrathion swore quietly. Why was Anduin so damn considerate? He felt the harsh pain in his side, and wondered if he'd even be able to get up on his own. He realized that he was in actual danger of bleeding out there on his bedroom floor, help just _feet_ away. Would Anduin understand? He knew that his current form was rather distressing to look at, would Anduin be repulsed by him? He knew, in the end, there was no choice.

He called out to Anduin, and asked for his help.


	4. Chapter 4

Anduin was in shock.

His roommate, coworker, _best friend_... was the vigilante taking down the Blacktalon organization.

As Wrathion recounted the tale of what'd happened that night, leading up to his injury and return home, Anduin had trouble looking him in the eyes. He busied himself with cleaning off the blood drying on Wrathion's skin, his hands shaking ever-so-slightly. When Wrathion finished his story, they sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute.

“I don't really know what to say,” Anduin said, running a hand through his long, undone hair.

“That's alright,” Wrathion replied, seemingly giving up on his subconscious quest to make Anduin make eye contact with him. “I understand why you're angry with me.”

“What? Wrathion, _no_ , I'm not angry with you,” he said exasperatedly, “I just don't understand why you're doing this, why you're putting yourself in danger like this,” _why you didn't tell me_ , he doesn't say. Wrathion scoffs.

“Do you have a _problem_ with it?” he gives Anduin a pointed look. “The Blacktalons are a menace. They _deserve_ this. Someone _needs_ to take them down, and apparently I'm the only one who cares enough to do it.”

“You _know_ that's not why they haven't been stopped yet,” Anduin snapped, “They're powerful. They're dangerous. They've killed so many people, Wrathion, _so many_ people trying to do what you're doing. That's why they still exist.”

Wrathion didn't reply. He simply clenched his jaw and glared in the direction of his window.

“I lost my mother because of them, when I was just a baby,” Anduin's voice was barely more than a whisper now, “Did you lose family to them, too? Is that why you're doing this?”

“Something like that,” Wrathion's face softened, just a bit, and he started to fidget with the sleeves of his shirt.

“Look, let's just drop it, for now,” Anduin sighed, “you're exhausted. I'm exhausted. Let's go to bed.” Wrathion simply nodded. Anduin stood and grabbed Wrathion's hand, pulling him to his feet. Wrathion looked at his suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm not going to make you sleep in blood-soaked sheets,” he rolled his eyes, “you can share my bed.” Wrathion raised a brow, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

“Oh? Has it been that easy all along, then?”

“Shut up,” he tried to sound serious, but he couldn't help a small smile of his own as he pulled Wrathion out of his room and into his own.

Anduin opted to keep the lights off, as if that would help with the awkwardness. It wasn't completely dark; the streetlights outside helped a bit, and Anduin had a small nightlight plugged in near his desk. He turned his back to Wrathion for a minute to fish around in his dresser for a t-shirt to sleep in, and found one for Wrathion, too. When he turned back, he was shocked to see that Wrathion had already stripped down to his boxers.

“Uh,” he tried to form proper words, and held the shirt out toward Wrathion, “here's a, uh...”

“I usually sleep just like this,” Wrathion gestured to his body, “but if that makes you uncomfortable...” he reached out for the shirt, slowly.

“No!” Anduin said quickly, pulling the shirt away and mentally kicking himself, “I mean. If you're more comfortable like that, it's okay.”

Wrathion just smiled at him before turning away to slip into his bed, back facing him. With Wrathion's back turned, he quickly stripped down to his own boxers and threw his t-shirt on before climbing into bed next to him. He laid on his back for a few moments, then rolled over onto his side, his back to Wrathion's with a few inches between them. He felt Wrathion wiggle beside him, evidently trying to get comfortable. Then he did it again. Then again, and Anduin felt Wrathion's back pressed against his.

“What are you doing?” He tried not to sound as breathless as he felt.

“Getting comfortable,” Wrathion replied casually, “Am I making you _un_ comfortable?”

“No,” Anduin said, too quickly again.

“Good,” Wrathion said, sounding a bit triumphant. He was quiet for a moment before continuing, “It's not weird for friends to _cuddle_ , you know.”

“Is... that what you want?”

“Mhmm.”

His heart was pounding so loudly, he worried that Wrathion would hear it. Slowly, carefully, he turned around so that his chest was pressed to Wrathion's back. Wrathion, apparently impatient, reached around to grab Anduin's hand and guide it around his waist. Wrathion gave a contented hum and relaxed against him. Anduin let his head fall forward to press against Wrathion's shoulder. He was certain that Wrathion would be able to feel his heartbeat against his back. He began to worry, distantly, that maybe he was taking advantage of his friend. If Wrathion knew about his feelings for him, he didn't say anything, and the shameless innuendos were just part of Wrathion's personality, not meant for him specifically. _Maybe I need to tell him how I feel,_ he thinks, _just get it out there._

He doesn't think much on it before drifting off into a more peaceful sleep than he's had in a very long time.

* * *

Anduin was awoken a full hour before he normally woke up. He didn't feel particularly well-rested, seeing as he only got a few hours of sleep, and the bed next to him was empty. He didn't worry, though, because he quickly realized that he's only awake because of the strong smell of breakfast being cooked. Anduin snorted;  _ Wrathion doesn't cook _ . He sat up and stretched before getting out of bed and throwing on a fresh set of work clothes. 

“Perfect, you're up!” Wrathion jumped up from his seat at the kitchen table to greet Anduin as he stepped into the room. “I was just about to wake you.”

Anduin took in the scene in front of him. Two plates sat on the table across from each other, piled with eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast.  _We didn't have bacon or sausages, did he go out and buy bacon and sausages?_ Anduin couldn't help but eye him warily. 

“What is this?”

“Breakfast, obviously!” Wrathion sat back down, “Sit, and stop looking so nervous.”

“Look, if this is about your secret identity and all that, you don't need to worry about me telling anyone,” Anduin said as he sat down across from his friend, “you certainly don't need to bribe me with food.”

Wrathion watched him thoughtfully for a moment, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his face.

“Anduin, I want to talk about  _you_ ,” Wrathion smiled, and continued at the bewildered look on Anduin's face, “people like us are exceedingly rare, you know that, but people like  _you_ are simply unheard of! I thought I was going to  _die_ last night, but you fixed me like it was nothing!” 

Anduin blushed and shrugged, but said nothing.

“I want to know more about your abilities. If you'll tell me.”

Anduin met his gaze and thought for a moment. Very few people knew about his abilities; his father knew, of course. So did his Aunt Jaina, and Genn, and perhaps some other people in his father's circle that he didn't know about. Keeping these things a secret was just part of the game, an unspoken rule that kept heroes identities a secret. But Anduin knew that whatever unspoken rules existed were absolutely destroyed last night, when the Black Prince was bleeding out in his best friend's bed, and he had no choice but to reveal his own power to save him. Although Anduin was beginning to wonder if Wrathion was truly trustworthy, he decided that if Wrathion was going to break the rules like that, he could too.


	5. Chapter 5

Anduin was eleven years old when his abilities manifested themselves.

It was after dark, one winter evening. Anduin, not old enough to feel any shame for it, held his fathers hand as they walked back to their apartment from the small convenience store down the street. These moments were rare, when Varian could drop everything and go do something with his son. They didn't exactly live in a “bad neighborhood”, so Varian wasn't prepared when a figure approached them from a nearby alley.

Varian – or Lo'Gosh, a name he'd been given during his stint as a mercenary – had superhuman strength, speed, and reflexes, but in that moment, he realized that didn't mean much when a stranger has a gun pointed at you and your child.

Anduin had never been so afraid. The man had a gun, and he was pointing it at his father, who was carefully nudging him to stand behind him. The man was yelling, but Anduin was too afraid to even understand what he was saying. His father was talking back, as calmly as he could, trying to talk the man into lowering his weapon. He reached behind him, presumably to grab his wallet, but the stranger was jumpy. A shot rang out, and Anduin screamed. The stranger ran. His father fell to the ground.

Varian could see, through the haze, his son kneeling over him, sobbing, begging him to be okay. He tried to say something, but he couldn't. His vision began to fade into darkness, then... light. Faint light, that grew by the second. He wondered if this was the the “light” they always talked about, but then he realized... it was Anduin. His son, kneeling over him with his hands pressed to his chest, glowing from the inside out. Varian sat up, desperately searching for the wound in his chest, and found nothing but a faint scar. The glow coming from Anduin faded, who stared up at him in terror and amazement. Tears still ran down his cheeks, and Anduin threw his arms around his fathers neck, almost too tightly. Varian hugged him back, fighting back sobs of his own. He picked him up, holding him tightly as he walked the rest of the way home.

Once they got back to their small apartment, Varian set his son down on the couch and turned on some cartoons for him while he stepped into the other room to make a phone call. Once he was done, he returned to Anduin with a warm, wet rag, and told him not to look as he cleaned the blood from his hands.

Jaina was at their door not fifteen minutes later, which was shocking to Anduin because she lived on the other side of town. Genn arrived twenty minutes after that. The three of them spoke in hushed voices in the kitchen. Anduin tried to listen, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

Varian had known it was a possibility that Anduin would have superhuman abilities, too. Not guaranteed, since Anduin's mother had none, but possible. What he didn't consider was that Anduin's abilities would be so different from his. It wasn't particularly uncommon for children to inherit abilities from their parents, or at least abilities  _similar_ to those of their parents. But Anduin... Anduin was something completely different. Varian didn't know how he could even begin to help his son understand how own powers. As it turns out, he wouldn't need to.

“I've heard of one other person like Anduin,” Jaina spoke quietly, “An old priest named Velen, just outside the city. His abilities are similar to Anduin's, if not  _exactly_ the same.” Varian wasn't surprised that Jaina had an answer to this; she was well-connected to others like them. 

Jaina hugged Anduin before she left that night. Genn patted him on the shoulder and gave him a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring.

They didn't have to convince Velen to take Anduin under his wing. He knew how rare gifts like theirs were. It only took one after-school session for Varian to know that they'd made the right choice.

He picked Anduin up from Velen's house at the scheduled time.

“I need to show you something!” Anduin practically shouted at him in excitement the moment they got home. “Stand still!”

“Okay,” Varian chuckled, eager to find out what a single tutoring session had taught him. Anduin took a deep breath, and made a quick gesture toward his father. Instantly, Varian was surrounded by a very faint, almost invisible shimmering light. “What... is this?”

“Watch!” Anduin picked up his backpack and threw it directly at him, but it simply bounced off the barrier surrounding him. “Velen said it can stop almost  _anything_ !”  _Even bullets_ , he doesn't need to say. Varian smiled and hugged his son.

Anduin was fifteen when he tried to be a hero.

Now, he can't even remember what drew him into that building anyway. Perhaps an odd noise, or a bad feeling. Whatever it was, Anduin reached into his bag and pulled out an old bandanna, a rich blue with gold accents, and tide it around the lower half of his face. He pulled up the hood of his hoodie, and crept inside.

The building looked old, and like it'd been abandoned for a long time. Anduin quickly realized that wasn't the case. He heard voices speaking within, though he couldn't see anything yet. He crept deeper and deeper into the decrepit building, eager to see what was going on within. He didn't notice someone sneaking up behind him until there was an arm around his throat. He thrashed in his grip until he felt his heel connect with his assailants kneecap, hard. They relaxed their grip just enough for Anduin to break free, spinning around to hit them with a powerful blast of light; his abilities weren't  _all_ healing, after all. They cried out, falling to the floor. Anduin heard a shout behind him, and quickly maneuvered to do the same to the next assailant. He turned to run back to the exit, but a hand gripped his hood and yanked, before slamming his head into the wall next to him. Anduin yelped and fell to his knees, hand already glowing as he reached up to heal himself, but found his arm being wrenched painfully behind his back. 

“No more of that,” a voice hissed into his ear, with painful twist to his arm. Anduin cried out in pain. He was yanked to his feet and half dragged, half stumbled as the assailant led him further into the building. He was reeling from the blow to his head, and struggled to focus on what was happening. He only vaguely recognized that he'd been dragged into a rather rickety old elevator. The voice behind him tutted. “What's the boss gonna do with you?” it mocked.

Anduin had no idea how long they were in the elevator before the door opened and he was shoved out, falling to his knees after a few steps.

“Chief,” the voice called out, “we found someone sneaking around downstairs. He's one of  _them_ .”

“Bring him here,” a deep, rumbling voice chuckled from the other side of the room, straight ahead.

“Up,” the voice hissed, dragging him to his feet. Anduin walked forward, toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, and could make out out a hulking figure in the bright moonlight. As they got closer, Anduin realized that he could recognize the man, and his heart almost stopped. Just a few more steps, and he was face-to-face with Garrosh Hellscream, possibly the most notorious crime lord in the city, wanted for a slew of murders, assaults, and countless other crimes over the years. And Anduin had just so foolishly stumbled into his den. He was shoved forward the last few feet, but he didn't fall down this time. He was fairly certain he was going to die here, and he wanted to face his death with just a bit of dignity. He raised his head and met Garrosh's eyes.

Garrosh  _towered_ over him. He knocked Anduin's hood back, and Anduin fought back a cry when Garrosh threaded his fingers into his hair and  _pulled_ , until Anduin was forced to stand on his toes. Still, he never broke his gaze, even when Garrosh reached up to tear away the thin fabric hiding his face. He looked down at him thoughtfully for a moment before letting out a short, barking laugh.

“ _Anduin Wrynn_ ,” he said in low growl that sounded almost amused, “Varian's boy. He had the chance to kill me once, you know. I always hoped I'd get the chance to make him regret not doing it. Looks like I got my wish.” 

Anduin had only barely processed his words when he was shoved through one of those massive windows, the sound of breaking glass almost deafening. He doesn't remember hitting the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

“I'm sorry,” Wrathion said incredulously, “you went toe-to-toe with _Garrosh Hellscream_ when you were _fifteen_ , and you survived?”

“Yeah,” Anduin nodded solemnly, “I mean, just barely. I must've cast a shield on myself before I hit the ground, and it absorbed some of the impact.”

“What happened after that?”

“I don't remember much. I woke up in the hospital. My dad was there. When he realized that I was awake, I think he was trying to decide between hugging me or hitting me,” Wrathion frowned at that, so Anduin continued quickly, “No, no, he wouldn't ever really hit me, I just meant that he looked kind of... angry? I don't know if he was angry at me or Garrosh. Either way, he couldn't do much anyway, thanks to all the broken bones, he couldn't really touch me at all.”

“Velen came, too. The hospital staff was informed of his... abilities, so they let him try to heal me. He did as much as he could, and it was a lot, but there was _so much_ damage. My leg was the worst, I think they were questioning whether or not they'd even be able to save it. It's still here, thanks to Velen, but it's been a long recovery.”

“My father was different after that, too. He'd always been kinda distant, I guess. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't a bad father, but he wasn't always there for me very much. I was practically raised by my Aunt Jaina and Uncle Bolvar, passed between them until I was ten or so. He was around more after that, and the whole Garrosh thing sort of pushed it over the edge. We spent a _lot_ of time together after that. It's weird, I guess, how I didn't even really get to know my own father until I was fifteen and almost died. We're still close, and I'm grateful for it.”

Wrathion was staring at Anduin again, in a way that could only be described as... adoringly.

“Anduin Wrynn,” he said, gently, “You might just be the most amazing person I've ever met.”

“I don't think you meet many people,” Anduin pointed out, ignoring the way his face was burning.

“I meet plenty of people,” Wrathion said with a scoff, “but none as wonderful as you.”

Anduin looked down into his coffee mug, a pathetic attempt to hide his blush. A couple of minutes passed, and Anduin realized that Wrathion was still staring.

“...what?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee as an excuse to look away.

“I want you to help me take down the Blacktalons.”

Anduin inhaled his coffee and started choking. Wrathion patted him on the back comfortingly.

“No. Hell no. That's absolutely the most insane thing you've ever said.”

“ _Anduin_ ,” he groaned petulantly, “just think about it! With my shapeshifting abilities and fighting skills, and your powers to heal and protect, we could be unstoppable! If I get stabbed on the job again, you could just patch me up right there, and we'd be back at it in a heartbeat! You're the perfect sidekick!”

“ _Sidekick_?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Absolutely not. Never.”

“We'd be unstoppable.”

“We've both been pretty damn stoppable thus far,” Anduin pointed out.

“Strength in numbers, my friend!” Wrathion was terrifyingly excited about this idea, “We failed because we tried to do things alone. You told me last night that I don't have to save the world alone, so I want my best friend by my side!”

“Are you seriously telling me that together, we would have been able to take down Garrosh? Or Nefarian?”

“I think it's entirely possible.”

Anduin groaned and let his head fall to the table.

“You're insufferable.”

“You're right,” Wrathion said with a perfect, wicked grin, “but, I'll be a good friend and let you think on this. Besides, we're going to be late for work if we don't leave soon.”

“ _We_ ? No way, you're staying home today,” Wrathion opened his mouth to protest, but Anduin cut him off, “Quiet. You are _not_ going in to work today. You're exhausted, and you almost _died_ last night. Please, just take the day to rest, or do whatever it is you do on your days off.”

“You're not my mother,” he said with a huff, “but if we're going to be partners in crime-fighting, I'll need to learn to trust your judgment, I _suppose_. But you should stay home, too. You were up just as late as I was.”

“No way, I'm not leaving Tong to mind the store on his own.”

“Fine,” Wrathion sighed, crossing his arms, “have a nice day at work, _I guess_.”

* * *

Wrathion pounced on him the moment he stepped in the front door.

“Ugh, finally! What took you so long?”

“What are you talking about? I get home at exactly this time _literally_ every day, and you're with me most of the time. Anyway,” Anduin smiled and lifted the bag in his hand, “I got dinner.”

“Hmph.”

“So,” he said, getting Wrathion's food out and handing it to him as they both sat down at the table, “did you get any sleep?”

“A bit,” he admitted, almost reluctantly, “not as much as I should have. I went out to pick up my car, but I spent most of the day working on a new project. One that I'm going to need your help with.” Anduin shot him a warning glare, remembering their earlier conversation. “It's nothing _bad_ , I just need your measurements.”

“My... measurements?”

“Yes,” Wrathion confirmed, “All of them. I'll help you after dinner.”

True to his word, the moment Anduin took his last bite, Wrathion was pulling him out of his chair and toward the living room.

“You know, this will be easier for me if you were wearing a bit less,” Wrathion said, picking up his measuring tape, “I'd like my measurements to be as accurate as possible. And don't worry, it's nothing I haven't seen before.” His added wink was _not_ reassuring.

Still, Anduin listened and stripped down to his boxers and thin undershirt. He had to admit to himself, he admired the fact that Wrathion didn't seem the least bit self-conscious when they slept together the night before, and he was more undressed than Anduin was now. He let Wrathion work on him, taking more measurements than Anduin thought was necessary and carefully noted each one on his phone. Finally, after a few minutes, he announced that he was finished.

“What are you working on, anyway?” Anduin asked, still a bit suspicious.

“Don't worry about it.”

Anduin did, in fact, worry about it.


	7. Chapter 7

It was four uneventful weeks later than Anduin learned what Wrathion's project really was.

Four blessedly peaceful weeks. Wrathion had stopped sneaking around, and was very much acting like his old, well-rested self again. He hadn't even brought up the whole “crime-fighting” gig again, much to Anduin's enjoyment.

However, that all came to a screeching, painful end when Wrathion called Anduin into his room one evening. It was a Sunday, so they both had the day off, and Wrathion had locked himself in his room nearly all day. Anduin knew he hadn't snuck out because he'd come out for the bathroom, or to grab another pot (pot!) of coffee.

“Anduin,” he heard Wrathion call from his room, “can you come in here please?”

Anduin stood up from the couch, very nervous about whatever Wrathion had in store for him. He opened Wrathion's door and found him sitting in his desk chair, grinning like a mad scientist with his fingers steepled in front of him. Anduin  _almost_ turned around and walked out, knowing that  _that_ face could only mean trouble. 

“Come in,” he said, grin unchanged.

“You're freaking me out,” Anduin said bluntly.

“ _This_ will freak you out even more,” Wrathion said, gesturing toward something unseen inside his room. With one last mildly-annoyed look toward Wrathion, Anduin stepped inside and jumped when he noticed a figure in the direction that Wrathion had gestured toward. He was about to say something when he realized it was just a mannequin, but he could only gape at what the mannequin was  _wearing_ .

He noticed right away that it was very similar in design to what Wrathion wore as the Black Prince, with the addition of a mask. Dark, tightly-fitting tactical gear with far more buckles and belts than Anduin thought should be necessary. However, whereas the Black Prince wore solid black, this costume had accents of rich navy blue and shimmering gold. There was a cowl pulled over the mannequin's head, and Anduin stepped forward to reach up and touch the golden mask. It was the face of a lion. The metal was cold under his fingers.

Anduin couldn't breath. He couldn't speak. He knew what Wrathion was trying to tell him.

“No,” he finally choked out, but he wasn't sure that he meant it.

“Would you like to try it on?” Wrathion whispered from behind him, close to his ear. Anduin nodded mutely. “Perfect. Get undressed.”

Anduin vaguely wondered how many times Wrathion was going to tell him to strip, and if it'd ever be in the context he'd dreamed of. As he got to work on his own clothes, Wrathion was stripping the mannequin down and laying out the individual pieces on his bed. Once both Anduin and the mannequin we're undressed, Wrathion helped him get the costume on. Anduin quickly realized that many of the belts and buckles were simply decorative, but it still had enough functional ones to throw him off. The pieces slid on perfectly, and Anduin marveled in the fact that this was made for  _him_ . Every single stitch, Wrathion did for him. Wrathion nudged him to sit down on the bed, and then knelt before him to lace up his boots. Anduin slid on the gloves, reaching mid-forearm, and did up the straps, taking a moment to admire to flex his fingers and admire Wrathion's work. It was comfortable, but he felt well-protected. 

Wrathion grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Anduin didn't argue when he ran his nimble fingers through his hair, tying it back in a quick, messy bun before handing him the final piece of his costume: the lion mask. There was a brief moment of hesitation where Anduin looked at Wrathion, who nodded encouragingly. He slipped the mask on, and pulled the cowl over his head. Wrathion stared, grinning again.

“You...” he began, breathless, “are  _amazing_ .”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“You,  _obviously_ . I don't need to remind myself that I'm amazing. The evidence is right in front of me. Here,” Wrathion grabbed his hand and pulled him in front of the full-body mirror in his closet. “What do you think?”

Anduin was staring at himself, or, more accurately, the costume. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. This wasn't the flashy costume of one of the superheroes on TV. This was the costume of someone who would strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. He could imagine this figure being the last thing someone sees, and that thought  _terrified_ him. He was lost in thought, he realized, when he discovered that Wrathion was undressing behind him. Anduin raised a brow under his mask, but he quickly realize that Wrathion was changing into his own costume. Once it was on, he walked up behind him and rested his fingers and Anduin's biceps while he admired their image in the mirror. Aduin realized that Wrathion was wearing a mask now too, a silver dragon-like creature. 

They looked so different. They were similar in height, but while Anduin was broad, with noticeable muscle, Wrathion was just a bit shorter, lithe. But with the coordinating costumes, they were undeniably a team.

“I know you're afraid to say it, so I will. We look  _amazing_ .”

“Yeah,” Anduin said softly, “You made all this?”

“Mhmm. Well, most of it. I commissioned the masks and the boots. The rest was all me, though.”

They stood there in silence for a few moments before Wrathion spoke again.

“Anduin,” he said gently, “if this isn't what you want, I'll understand, and I won't bring it up again. But I  _need_ you to understand that I have to take down the Blacktalons, whether you're by my side or not.” 

“Why?” Anduin whispered, meeting his gaze in the mirror, “Why are you so hellbent on taking them down? Why does it have to be  _you_ ?” He was terrified for his friend. He couldn't understand why Wrathion would place this on his own shoulders, even knowing the awful fates that'd befallen those who stood against them before. 

Wrathion looked down and pressed his forehead against Anduin's shoulder, fingers squeezing gently before he spoke.

“Because they  _made_ me, Anduin,” he whispered back, “Nefarian wanted a child with  _gifts_ , but such a thing didn't run in his blood. Surely you've seen the rumors that the Blacktalons have been involved in human experimentation. It's true, and I'm the product of such a thing; an attempt to artificially create superhuman abilities. These experiments were done on me while I was still in the womb, and clearly, they were successful,” he lets out a soft, humorless chuckle. 

“I'm only here today because of Fahrad. He was a Blacktalon, specifically assigned to guard me after my birth. Luckily, he realized that what was happening was  _wrong_ , so he stole me away, hid me from Nefarian and his people. I was supposed to be Nefarian's instrument of destruction, to rain hellfire upon his enemies and destroy them, once and for all. Instead, I'm  _free_ . Fahrad helped me understand my abilities once they started to manifest. He taught me how to fight, how to take care of myself. When I told him that I wanted to destroy the Blacktalons, he supported me, and we returned to the city. Still, I... felt that I wasn't quite ready. I wanted to feel normal for just a bit longer, I guess, so I got a job at Tong's bookstore while I tried to figure out what to do. I'm so glad that I did, Anduin,” he was whispering again, “I'm so glad that I met you.” 

“Wrathion,” Anduin whispered, brokenly. He pulled off his mask and let it fall to the floor, and turned around to face Wrathion before gently pulling off his mask, too. Wrathion wasn't looking at him, so he carefully cupped his cheek, and leaned in.

He was terrified at first. He still wasn't even sure that Wrathion did relationships, and now he knew that Wrathion could literally breathe fire on him if he wanted to. But he didn't. In fact, Wrathion didn't hesitate to return his passion, parting his lips and coaxing Anduin's tongue between them. He threw an arm around Anduin's neck and pressed against him, guiding him backwards until he his back it the wall. They continued their kiss, and Wrathion's fingers began to wander up and down Anduin's sides, pressing, desperate to feel  _something_ underneath the thick fabric of the costume. 

Anduin's shut his eyes and let himself be lost to the sensations of Wrathion nearly smothering him with his lips, his fingers starting to work at the fastenings on his outfit. He wondered, vaguely, if this was a trick, if Wrathion was just entertaining his obvious feelings for him to get Anduin on his side, or if this would be nothing more than a quick hookup. One thing he did know, though, was that he didn't want Wrathion to stop.


	8. Chapter 8

When Anduin woke up the next morning, his heart sank for just a moment when he realized that the bed next to him was empty. His confusion only lasted for a split-second before a gentle hand on his shoulder pushed him onto his back, and Wrathion, half-dressed and standing next to the bed, kissed him.

“Good morning,” he whispered, smiling against Anduin's lips.

“You gave me a heart attack.” Wrathion only chuckled.

“You should get up. I ordered a pizza.”

“Seriously, for breakfast?” Anduin laughed, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Excuse me,” Wrathion scoffed, “I seem to recall that the last time I cooked breakfast, you hardly touched it.”

“You only cooked it as an excuse to interrogate me!”

“Hmph. Well, either way, my ego can't take that happening again, so it's pizza for breakfast, or you get nothing.” With a wink, Wrathion finished getting dressed and walked out of the room.

Anduin let himself fall back onto the bed and grinned up at the ceiling. He quickly remembered the he was completely naked under Wrathion's blankets. Reminding himself that Wrathion clearly had no problem with seeing him naked, if last night was any indicator, he climbed out of bed and walked to his own room to get dressed. As he did, he felt anxiety welling within him. He knew that he and Wrathion would have to have at least two separate uncomfortable conversations today; one about the Blacktalons, and one about _them_. He was tense and fidgeting by the time he emerged from his room.

If Wrathion was feeling the same was, he wasn't showing it. In fact, he looked quite relaxed as Anduin sat down next to him on the couch.

“It should be here any minute,” Wrathion said, raising his eyes from his phone's screen for just a moment. The he turned and picked his feet up to plant them firmly in Anduin's lap, looking almost smug as he laid back.

* * *

“You obviously want to say something,” Wrathion said with a sigh, after they'd both eaten in silence. “Out with it. What's on your mind?”

Anduin looked down and chewed on his lip for a few moments, searching for the right words.

“Do you... honestly believe that we'd stand a chance against them?” he spoke slowly. “I know how clever you are, Wrathion, and you're not nearly as optimistic as you're pretending to be. Do you really, truly believe that we can do this?”

“I do,” Wrathion said, reaching out to hold one of Anduin's hands between his own, “You may not believe it, but we have all the resources we need to do so. Fahrad worked for them for many years before I was born, and was rather high-ranking at that, so he's been able to tell me _much_ about the inner-workings of the Blacktalons. In my own _research_ , I've discovered many things of my own. I believe that over the last few years, the Blacktalons have been slowly losing their power and influence over this city. True, it's mainly due to the increasing presence of other criminal groups in the area, but I believe that it won't actually take much to tip the scales and send the Blacktalons running. We just need to start with the key players.”

“I know you _want_ me to ask, so please don't make me regret this: who exactly are the _key players_?”

Wrathion smiled.

“I thought you'd never ask!” He stood up quickly and hurried off to his room, returning a minute later with a thick folder and plopping himself back onto the couch next to Anduin, close enough to be touching. “Alright, so, let's start at the top, shall we?”

He opened the folder and flipped through a few stacks of pages before finding what he was looking for. He pulled out a stack of papers held together with a paperclip, and handed it to Anduin. Clipped at the front was a photo of Victor Nefarian.

“I'm sure you know who _this_ is,” he glanced at Anduin, who simply nodded, “Nefarian is the CEO of a medical research corporation called Blackrock. He's been investigated for his connections with the Blacktalons, but nothing ever came of it. I know for a _fact_ , thanks largely to my _own_ efforts, that the police are watching Nefarian's every move. Every e-mail, every phone call not made from a burner phone, _everything_ . Nefarian is getting nervous, and we _need_ to take advantage of that. However, despite the fact they have a mountain of evidence pointing toward his guilt, something is stopped them from charging him. And that brings us to,” Wrathion pulls out another stack and hands places it on top of the one already in his hands, “person-of-interest number two: Katrana Prestor.”

Anduin looks down at the photograph. It's a woman he's never seen before, with wavy blue-black hair and eyes so sharp, Anduin almost wants to cower.

“Don't let that pretty face fool you,” Wrathion began, tapping the photo, “that's Nefarian's dear little sister, and she's about as wretched as they come. Unfortunately for us, she's also remarkably clever. She works in computer forensics with the police department, and has many friends with close ties to City Hall. You may have seen that there have been dozens of Blacktalon arrests these last few months,” Wrathion smiles and looks _incredibly_ smug, “but what you probably didn't hear about is how many of those arrests stuck. I'll spoil the surprise: it was nearly _none_ . The only Blacktalons sitting in cells are lackeys, bottom of the food chain types. I get the distinct feeling that _Katrana_ is the reason why.”

“So,” Anduin said, understanding what Wrathion was getting at, “we need to take down Katrana first, or any move we make against Nefarian will be for nothing. Do you think she's just been tampering with evidence, or is it something more... sinister?”

“I'm not sure, exactly. I'd say she's certainly been tampering with evidence, but I fear she may also be influencing officials within the city government, via blackmail, or who knows what else.”

“What do you think we should do?” Anduin asked, “Break into her office?”

“Oh, Anduin,” Wrathion said dreamily, “You haven't even officially accepted my proposal, and you're already suggesting breaking-and-entering. I'm so proud of you.”

Anduin snorted and shook his head, but couldn't fight a giggle.

“This is still absolutely insane, you know,” Anduin pointed out.

“Perhaps it is, my dear. But _when_ we succeed, the Black Prince and his companion will be _heroes_ . Those Blacktalon monsters will go to prison, and this city will be safer, thanks to _us_.”

“Hm.”

“Back to the plan,” Wrathion continued, “Yes, we should break into Katrana's office. But not the one in her home. No, I discovered something odd while combing through records from Blackrock.” Wrathion dug around in his folder again, finding very small stack of papers, this time tossing the rest of the folder onto the coffee table in front of them. Unlike the others that Anduin had seen so far, it didn't have a photo on the front, and it just seemed to be a list.

“This,” Wrathion gestured to the papers in his hand, “is a list of every employee at Blackrock's main facility just north of town. Fahrad and I've thoroughly researched every single name on this list,” Anduin is shocked; there are at least a hundred names here, “and the results are just about what we expected: most of them are clean, while a handful of them could reasonably be connected to Blacktalon. However,” he flipped to one of the last pages, and pointed to a highlighted name, “this person doesn't exist.”

Anduin looked at the page. _Onyx, A._ , it read, _Office 412A_. He looked at Wrathion, prompting him to explain.

“No other name on this list is abbreviated like that. This is clearly an alias. And yes, this _does_ get better. I, ah, _gained access_ to the home computer of one of the higher-ups at Blackrock, a financial officer of some sort, and I found these,” he pulls a few papers from the stack with a flourish, “Transaction records! Two thousand dollars a month, every month for the last _decade_ , sent directly to Nefarian himself. Not Blackrock, _Nefarian_. And they're all from A. Onyx, with the memo 'lease'.”

Wrathion grinned triumphantly at him as he finished sharing his evidence.

“Just to make sure I'm understanding this correctly,” Anduin said, somewhat incredulously, “A. Onyx is Katrana Prestor, and she's paying her brother rent every month for a secret office in his research facility.”

“And why, my friend, would she need a _secret_ office, under an alias?”

“Because that's where she's doing her... crimes?” Anduin shrugged.

“Not quite how I would've put it, but yes! I _firmly_ believe that within her private office at Blackrock, we'll find what we need to take her down.”

“But you said she's well-connected. What if whatever evidence we find isn't enough for the police to do anything? Won't that just make everything worse?”

“Ah, but we won't give the evidence to the police,” Wrathion gave him a devious grin, “we're going to release it to the public.”

Anduin let himself fall back onto the cushions, staring at the ceiling in silence for several moments.

“My head hurts,” he admitted, finally, “Once again, this is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Let's stop here. I'm waiting to hear back from Fahrad about the best way to get into Blackrock. We have at least a week before we really need to focus on this,” Wrathion laid back, snuggling into Anduin's side. “You asked a lot of questions. Is it my turn to ask you one?”

“Sure.”

“Was I your _first_?” He looked up at Anduin with a sly grin.

“Well, I mean,” Anduin sputtered for a moment, “not my first _kiss_. But... yeah.”

“Hm,” Wrathion seemed satisfied with the answer, and continued, “Have you ever dated someone?”

“No,” Anduin laughed, “What about you? Was I your first... whatever?”

“Yes, you were,” Wrathion noticed Anduin's expression, “What, are you surprised?”

“Well, yeah, I mean... you flirt with everyone. I thought maybe you just weren't into the whole _dating_ part of things, specifically.”

“I flirt with people I think would be receptive to it to establish a rapport, and thus sell them books more effectively,” Wrathion shifted uncomfortably, “It's a cheap tactic, of course, but it works.”

“What... what about me?” Anduin said quietly, almost afraid to look down at Wrathion.

“I _know_ you, Anduin,” he gave a faint smile, “The reason I don't _date_ is because I don't want to date a stranger. I don't want to have to call someone my partner before I really, truly know them. We were friends, first. I know you, and I know that you're someone I would want to be with. Long-term, if you're alright with that,” he shrugged, “ _boyfriends_ , you know.”

“Yeah,” Anduin smiled back, staring adoringly down at Wrathion, “I'd love that.”

Wrathion smiled and gave a contented hum, nuzzling closer to Anduin. To his _boyfriend_.

“Do I get another question?” he asked, after several minutes of comfortable silence.

“You don't have to _ask_ if you can ask me things.”

“Fine. What do Jaina and Genn do?” In any other context, Anduin would think that he was asking about their professions, but he knows what Wrathion means.

“Jaina has cryokinetic abilities, like producing and manipulating ice, freezing things, stuff like that. She also has the ability to teleport, herself and a few other people at a time, but it's really hard on her, so she doesn't do it much. Genn's a shapeshifter. He can take the form of a massive wolf. It's... sort of terrifying,” Anduin thinks for a moment before continuing, “Why'd you choose a lion?”

“It's the city's whole thing, you know? They plaster lion imagery everywhere, so it seemed fitting to have a lion take down one of the city's most notorious criminal organizations.”

“Why'd you choose a dragon for yourself?”

Wrathion looked up at him with his brows furrowed. Then his eyes widened, and he grinned.

“Oh! Of course, you've never seen my _other_ form.” Wrathion quickly got to his feet. Anduin sat up and leaned forward in interest. With a quick, easy-to-miss puff of black mist, Wrathion was gone, and a small, fluttering creature was in his place, hovering a few feet off the floor. Anduin could only stare in amazement.

Wrathion's small, dark form darted forward to flop gracelessly onto the couch, and then crawled over to Anduin, standing with his front paws on Anduin's thigh and looking up at him with huge, glowing red eyes. Then, he turned around to nuzzle his snout underneath Anduin's palm, which he took to mean that Wrathion wanted to be petted. He ran a hand from his head down the smooth, black scales of his back, and Wrathion _purred_.

“ _Wrathion_ ,” Anduin practically giggled, “you're adorable.” Wrathion gave a chittering growl and bared his not-so-adorable teeth, letting out a puff of smoke for good measure. Anduin just smiled and stroked underneath his chin with his fingers, which seemed to relax the little dragon. “Can you speak in this form?”

“I suppose,” Wrathion said, his voice a little more... growl-y than usual, “I didn't want to shatter the illusion for you. Have you never had a pet before?”

Anduin rolled his eyes.

“You better shift back. We never paid a pet deposit.”


	9. Chapter 9

A week and a half later, Wrathion asked Anduin to go out with him on their lunch break.

“So,” Wrathion said as soon as they'd ordered and the waiter left them at their table, keeping his voice low, “I've heard from Fahrad.”

“Oh,” was all Anduin could say.  _I guess this is really, really happening_ .

“You're going to like this, actually,” Wrathion reached out for his hand, “He thinks that it would be in our best interest for the Black Prince to gain some... positive PR, if you know what I mean.”

“I thought that the Black Prince already  _ had _ a positive public image.” 

“Oh, he does, but do the people of Stormwind trust him?” Wrathion paused for a second, “Did  _you_ trust him?”

“That's... a good point.”

“Yeah. Besides, if the Black Prince is going to have a sidekick,  _he_ has to earn the city's trust as well.”

“So, what, we're going to start saving kittens from trees, and pulling orphans from burning buildings?”

“I like the way you think,” Wrathion said with a wink, “Yes, that's exactly what we're going to do. The Black Prince is finally going to go to public, with his  _handsome_ new sidekick. I mean, of course, they won't see our faces, but I'll make sure to mention your beauty to the media at  _some_ point,” Wrathion gently stirred his drink with his straw, just something to keep his hands moving, “It'll be easy for you, you know. You're a healer. Everyone's going to love you.”

“They'll love you, too,” Anduin desperately wanted to lean across the table and kiss him, but figured that wouldn't be very appropriate for their setting.

Their food arrived a few minutes later, and they ate together, no longer talking about the hero work that would soon fill their lives, but about Tong, and the bookstore, and what they were reading. Though, Anduin couldn't stay away from the topic for too long.

“Does Nefarian know who you are?”

Wrathion looked up at him in surprise.

“I think he knows that the Black Prince is his son,” he said, carefully, “but I don't think he knows that his son is... Wrathion. If he did...” he ended his sentence with a shrug.

“Did he name you?”

“No, that was Fahrad, and I'm grateful for it. It's a fantastic name.” He smiled at Anduin. “Speaking of  _names_ , what are you going to call yourself?”

“Honestly, I was kind of hoping you'd think of something.”

When they went searching for their first big public mission, Anduin's prediction in the restaurant proved to be almost prophetic.  _Almost_ .

“Mittens!” the woman cried, “Mittens is still inside! She ran out into the hallway but I couldn't catch her, she could be anywhere!”

“Don't worry, ma'am,” Anduin said, staring up at the black smoke billowing from the windows of the two-story apartment building, “We'll find her.” He took a moment to gently grab her hand, casting a healing light over the scrape she must've gotten on her way out. In an instant, it was gone, and there wasn't even a scar left behind. She stared at him in amazement, but he turned instead to Wrathion and nodded. 

Wrathion shifted into his dragon form, earning a collective gasp from the small crowd that'd gathered outside, and Anduin cast a shield around himself and Wrathion. Wrathion flew up through a shattered window on the second floor, while Anduin went in the front door.

They emerged together, not quite four minutes later, just as the fire department was arriving. Anduin held the small cat closely to his chest. As they approached the woman from before, Wrathion shifted back into his human form to walk alongside him. Before handing Mittens to her owner, Anduin cast another healing light, this time over the cat's paws, healing the burns she'd sustained while hiding inside the building. He could see a few phones pointed in his direction, but he didn't look at them. Instead, he gave Mittens a scratch between her ears, and gently handed her to her owner.

“Who are you?” a voice in the crowd shouted in excitement. To Anduin's immense relief, Wrathion stepped forward, clearly trying to give the cameras a better shot.

“I am the Black Prince,” he said with a small bow, and Anduin could almost hear his grin when he gestured toward him, “and this is my  _partner_ , the White Pawn.” 

People  _cheered_ . All Anduin could do was give an embarrassed little wave. 

With the rush of activity following the arrival of the fire department, Anduin and Wrathion were able to slip away and get to Anduin's car, parked a few blocks away. Once inside, they removed their masks, and neither could stop the joyous laughter that bubbled out.

“People cheered for us, Anduin!” he laughed, “We saved a kitten!”

“Yeah,” Anduin grinned at him, “People  _really_ love superheroes.” 

“That they do.”

“And...  _the White Pawn_ ? Not degrading at all,” he said, sarcastically, “At least you called me your partner instead of your sidekick.” 

Anduin just stared at his boyfriend. The look of pure joy on his face wasn't one that Anduin saw often, and he felt... privileged. But Wrathion noticed when Anduin's face fell, just a bit.

“What's wrong?” he asked, reaching out to gently touch his arm.

“We're... we're really doing this,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “It's all saving kittens and cheering crowds now, but... this is all just a build-up to taking on the Blacktalons. Taking on  _Nefarian_ .” 

“Anduin,” Wrathion began, keeping his voice soft, “if we do this right, which we  _will_ , we'll never have to even  _face_ Nefarian. Once Katrana's out of the picture, there will be no one left to protect him. The police will be able to do their jobs. He'll go to prison for the rest of his life.” 

“I know.” His hands were shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take deep breaths, focusing on Wrathion's hand on his arm.

“This is going to work,” Wrathion told him, firmly. Anduin nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

Over the next several weeks, the Black Prince and the White Pawn exploded in popularity.

They weren't the most active heroes in the city, seeing as they could really only fight crime on their days off or, on a few lucky occasions, during their lunch break, but they were well-loved. The Black Prince was already known for his aggressive moves to take down the Blacktalons, so his transition from shadowy, faceless figure to star of the show was very well-received. As for the White Pawn... well, they learned that saving a kitten from a burning building and then healing its injuries on camera was possibly the best superhero debut they could've hoped for.

“Anduin, look at this,” Wrathion said, holding up his phone in front of Anduin's face, scrolling for him, “this is a _fan-blog_ , dedicated to _us_.”

“If you would please stop admiring photos of yourself and help me shelve these books, that'd be much appreciated.” He tried to sound serious but he couldn't quite hide his amusement. The whole situation was utterly ridiculous. He didn't _want_ to be idolized like this, but he knew it was part of the game. If they were going to take down Nefarian, the first step was becoming beloved public figures. Naturally.

“I wasn't looking at _myself_ ,” he said as he stood, and gave Anduin's rear a quick squeeze as he walked past him. Anduin's glare was met with a smirk.

“Have you heard the rumors?” Wrathion's voice dropped to a whisper, suddenly serious.

“No, what rumors?” Anduin felt his heart start to race, nervous of what Wrathion would tell him. Wrathion looked from side-to-side, making sure they were alone; Tong was out running some errands, leaving the two alone to run the shop, and there were currently no customers. He pulled Anduin's face close to his.

“That the Black Prince and the White Pawn,” he leaned in, lips brushing against Anduin's ear, “are _dating_.”

“You-!” he sputtered, giving Wrathion a playful shove, and Wrathion _cackled_ . “I don't see why they would be. The Black Prince is haughty and childish and _forgot to wash the dishes last night_.”

“Maybe he was busy with important things, you know, protecting the city and such.”

“I know for a _fact_ that he wasn't.”

* * *

“I think we should make our move against Katrana.” Anduin said suddenly one evening. Wrathion raised a brow at him. “People love us. We've had plenty of practice fighting against criminals, and we work well together. I think we're ready to break into Blackrock.”

“I think you're right. Last I heard, Fahrad had a plan that he was pretty confident with. Say, how would you like to finally meet him?”

* * *

Anduin wasn't sure what he was expected Fahrad to be like, but it wasn't this. Fahrad had raised Wrathion from birth; Wrathion, who couldn't go three words without either bragging, sass, or sarcasm, surely he gotten that from _somewhere_? But, that 'somewhere' certainly wasn't Fahrad. He was polite enough, but very stern and business-like. Anduin was a bit thrown by this, but Wrathion's presence relaxed him.

What Anduin didn't expect was to meet Wrathion's former bodyguards.

He didn't even know that Wrathion had _had_ bodyguards. Wrathion introduced them as simply “Right” and “Left”, reformed Blacktalons and good friends. They were every bit as stern as Fahrad.

“You boys are right,” Fahrad said, gesturing toward a table in the great-room, “this is the time to strike. Local elections are coming up soon, so getting this information out there just might help sweep some of the corruption out of City Hall.”

“Good. You know that Prestor and Nefarian are my priorities, but the more the merrier! So, what do you have for us?”

Anduin almost felt like a third (or fifth) wheel, listening to Wrathion and Fahrad pore over maps and blueprints together. He quickly realized that little of their communication was actually verbalized; they seemed to easily pick up on what the other was thinking. It didn't take them long to formulate a plan, though.

“So, Anduin,” Wrathion finally clapped his hands together and addressed him, “the plan is simple. For us, at least. Right and Left will enter Blackrock during business hours. Fahrad has arranged a 'meeting' between them and one of Blackrock's researchers, one who would stand to gain _much_ by getting Nefarian out of the picture. He'll get them a keycard, allowing them unfettered access to much of the facility. They'll remain hidden, with our ally covering for them if need be, until the building locks down for the night. They'll use the card to access the security room, and from there they'll be able to see everything. Fahrad and I will communicate with them via earpiece, they'll unlock an entrance for us, and they should even be able to open Katrana's office for us.”

“Okay,” Anduin said, slowly, “I'm starting to wonder if we're even necessary for this mission.”

“Of course we are. Right and Left will be monitoring the facility, communicating the movement of the night guards so that we can avoid them. You know how important it is for this mission to go as smoothly as possible; we don't want any property, or bodily, damage. It won't be good for our _public image_. Once we're finished, we'll give everything to Fahrad, and he'll comb through it all and make sure the relevant information is put into the right hands.”

“And what am I there for?” he asked, “I'm not as stealthy as you. Wouldn't it be safer to go without me?”

“Absolutely not. Don't even say such a thing,” Wrathion scolded, “You may not remember, but this is my first time facing Blacktalons after, you know, they _stabbed_ me. There's nobody else on this planet that I'd rather have by my side, to fight with me, and to heal me if I get stabbed again, of course.”

“I hate to ask, but what are the odds that we encounter Nefarian? Isn't this _his_ facility?”

“Slim to none,” Fahrad said simply, “He should be out of the country at a conference for the next few days.”

“Where will you be?” Anduin asked, addressed Fahrad.

“I will be waiting in the car. Someone will need to inform the authorities if the four of you die.”

His tone indicated that he was joking, but unlike Wrathion, Anduin didn't laugh.


	11. Chapter 11

It was a familiar scene to Wrathion; sitting with his feet up on the desk, waiting for the file transfer to complete, and the lingering sense that maybe things had been just a bit too easy.

What was different tonight, though, was Anduin. He'd shed his mask and cowl once they were safely in Katrana's office, tasked with digging through the desk and various cabinets, looking for any physical evidence tucked away somewhere. Occasionally he'd have to stop and beckon for Wrathion to come over and pick a lock, but other than that, things were going well. Once Right and Left signaled that it was safe for them to enter the building, with their guidance, they were able to make their way to the fourth floor and access Katrana's office.

Once he'd stuffed his black knapsack with items and documents that may or may not have been evidence, Anduin took to nervously pacing back and forth across the room.

“You need to calm down, dear,” Wrathion sighed, “I'm almost finished here. Once the transfer is complete, we'll be home free.”

“This has been so easy,” Anduin said, fidgeting with the straps on his gloves, “Do you remember the time that we broke into that cosmetics lab to find proof of animal testing? _That_ was hard, and that was for practically nothing! This was too easy, Wrathion.”

“ _Anduin_ ,” he groaned, “they just weren't expecting us! Why would they have any reason to suspect that we'd be so bold as to break into Blackrock itself? Besides, Right and Left have eyes on the whole facility, and if something were wrong, they'd warn us.” As if on cue, Wrathion stiffened and dropped his feet to the floor. He stared into space for just a second before swiveling to face away from Anduin, and pressed a finger to his ear. “What exactly do you mean, ' _uh-oh_ '?”

“ _Wrathion_!” Anduin hissed, but Wrathion raised a finger to silence him, still listened to whatever Right or Left was saying. Finally, after several agonizing seconds, to turned back to Anduin.

“Okay, don't panic, but Nefarian just walked in the front door.”

“Are you _serious_ ?” Anduin said, his voice a bit more shrill than he would've liked, “He's going to murder us, Wrathion. Like, really, truly _murder us_ . They'll never find our bodies, _oh my god_.”

“We have time,” Wrathion said soothingly as he stood and grabbed his drive from the computer, “He probably doesn't even know that we're here, and this is just a very unlucky coincidence. He's heading toward the main elevators, likely on his way to his own office on the floor above us. We'll take the western stairway to the bottom floor, and we'll be _fine_.” He slipped on his own mask, prompted Anduin to do the same, and took his hand, pulling him toward the door. He twisted the knob, and... nothing. He jiggled it a few times, for good measure.

“It's... locked,” he hissed, “Left, it's _fucking_ locked.” He paused for a moment, listening. “ _Something's_ overridden Right and Left's access to the security system and locked us in.”

“What do we do?” Anduin said quickly, forcing himself to calm down. He glanced around. “Maybe the window?”

“The window,” Wrathion confirmed, and walked over to pull up the shades and pry it open. It wasn't especially large, but it was just enough for them to climb through, especially if Wrathion was in his dragon form. Anduin joined him and looked outside.

“This is really high,” he almost whispered, nerves betraying him. “Look, there's a small ledge just below us. I'll be able to lower myself down to that point, but even then... that's still high.”

“I know,” Wrathion murmured, “but... what about that levitation spell- _thingy_ you showed me last week, the one Velen told you about?”

“That worked on an _apple_ , Wrathion! I've never tried it on a person.”

“And your shields. You said they're much stronger than they were before.” Anduin nodded and looked away, almost afraid that Wrathion could see his frightened expression through his mask. “I wish this could've played out differently, Anduin, I _know_ this much be hard for you, but we have no choice. He's getting close.”

“What about Right and Left?”

“They've assured me that they'll be okay. We'll meet them back at the car.”

“Okay.” Anduin took a shaky breath, and Wrathion shifted into his dragon form, flying just outside.

“I'll be with you the whole time. Just remember that if you really fall, bend your knees when you hit the ground, if you can. And you're more likely to survive if you take the impact on your side.”

“Thanks,” Anduin replied flatly. He gripped the sill tightly as he climbed through, he feet coming to rest on the narrow ledge just below it.

“Oh, and remember that I love you.”

“Wrathion I swear to god, if you're only saying that because you think I'm going to die-” he cut himself off with a small gasp as he heard a small beep from inside the office. Victor Nefarian stepped through the door, and his lips twisted into a snarl as he laid eyes on Anduin and Wrathion outside the window. Anduin quickly lowered himself on the ledge and cast a shield and what he _hoped_ would be a levitation spell over himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the strap of his knapsack tightly, and pushed himself off the ledge.

He quickly realized that he wasn't falling.

His eyes shot open, and he realized that he was gliding, slowly, toward the ground. Wrathion gave a whoop of excitement and fluttered around him, matching his descent. He came to rest a foot off the ground, and with a quick gesture, the levitation was dispelled and he hit the ground. Wrathion wasted no time shifted back into his human form beside him, and they didn't look back as they ran.

When they reached the car, parked a few blocks away, they nearly crushed Right as they piled into the backseat, panting and winded. Before they'd even shut the door, Fahrad was speeding off, jostling them further.

“How'd you two get here before us?” Wrathion lamented.

Right shrugged.

During the drive, Fahrad and Wrathion spoke briefly about the mission, Wrathion confirming that he was able to copy all of the contents of Katrana's computer onto the drive, and that Anduin had filled the knapsack with practically anything he could get his hands on, to which Anduin scoffed at. When they arrived at Fahrad's house, they only stayed long enough to change back into their regular clothes. They handed their findings to him, and bid him goodnight.

Anduin drove them home in silence, though Wrathion held one of his hands and rested his head against his shoulder. Anduin could feel him shaking against him.

Wrathion crawled into his bed that night, bare skin rubbing against bare skin as he came to rest on top of Anduin, though Anduin knew that he wasn't planning on doing any more than that tonight. He was exhausted from the stress, and he knew that Wrathion was in the same state.

“Wrathion,” he began softly, but he was cut off.

“I meant what I said,” Wrathion said plainly, letting his head fall forward to rest a cheek against Anduin's chest. “And for the record, I didn't, _for_ _one_ _moment_ , think that you were going to die.” Anduin reached down and smoothed his hand over his hair, tucking a dark lock behind his ear so he could lay a palm on Wrathion's cheek, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb.

“I love you, Wrathion,” he whispered.

“And I love you, _obviously_.” Wrathion looked up at him with big, dark eyes, and pressed a kiss to his chest.

Despite his exhaustion, sleep evaded him. He could tell that Wrathion was suffering the same way, so after several minutes, Anduin spoke again.

“How long have you known that you were Nefarian's son?”

“That's sort of... complicated,” Wrathion started, “Fahrad has never been one to coddle. He told me about the danger I was in at a young age, though without naming any specifics. I was always home-schooled, and we moved yearly. Fahrad taught me how to fight, use weapons, pick locks, all that good stuff. When I was 14, he told me about the Blacktalons, and our connections to them. He didn't tell me that I was Nefarian's son. Not because he was trying to hide it from me, but because he truly didn't know. He knew that I had been created to be Nefarian's superpowered protege, but I was an experiment; he didn't know if Nefarian would've experimented on his own unborn child. Evidently he would. That's what I was looking for, the night I was stabbed... proof that I was his son. And I am.”

“I'm sorry,” Anduin murmured.

“Don't be. I'm not him, and I never will be. I've chosen to dedicate everything I am to stopping him. Then, I'll dedicate myself to the people of Stormwind. They've suffered for decades at my father's hand. I am not him, and I will do everything I can to undo his legacy.”

* * *

The next two days passed without incident. On the third day, Anduin awoke to a metaphorical wildfire.

He woke to an empty bed. Not unusual, since he'd learned over the last few months that Wrathion was very much a morning person. He rolled onto his back and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, content to see that he had some time before he needed to get up and ready for work, and laid back to check in on the news.

He was stunned when he saw the stories dominating the headlines.

Thanks to the efforts of the Black Prince and the White Pawn, the Stormwind City Police Department had _mountains_ of evidence of wrongdoings by Katrana Prestor, including some keywords such as “evidence tampering” and “conspiracy.” They were even able to link her to a handful of suspect deaths over the last few years. At least three high-ranking members of the department had already resigned, as it came to light that she'd influenced them to free dozens upon dozens of Blacktalons over the years, as well as frame innocent people for crimes they didn't commit. She'd be facing life in prison, if convicted of her crimes... _if_ she hadn't fled the country.

Katrana Prestor was, officially, out of the picture.

Yesterday, the evidence, every single page hand-picked by Fahrad, Right, and Left, had been released to the media. Every news outlet within 100 miles received an e-mail containing every bit of it, signed by the Black Prince and the White Pawn. The kept quiet until this morning when the Police Department was able to verify the authenticity of the documents, and it certainly helped that they trusted the two heroes who'd delivered it to them.

Anduin grinned up at the ceiling, feeling giddy. This is what they'd been working toward all along. It was _finally_ starting to come together.

Once he was finished getting ready for the day, he wandered out to the kitchen to find Wrathion, leaning up against the counter with a coffee mug in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked up at Anduin and gave a knowing smirk. Anduin couldn't help himself. He walked up to him, pulled him close with an arm around his waist, and kissed him deeply. He heard Wrathion scramble to put his stuff down on the counter behind him before his hands were on him, pulling him even closer, and kissing him back in earnest.

They were late for work that morning.


	12. Chapter 12

One week had passed since the release of the information implicating Katrana Prestor in a mountain of Blacktalon-linked criminal activity. At Fahrad's insistence, the Black Prince and the White Pawn were taking a break from hero work, letting the spotlight die down before planning their next, and hopefully  _final,_ move against the Blacktalons. 

“Does your father know that we're dating?” Wrathion asked, looking up at Anduin from his book. Anduin behind the front counter, neatly arranging and spot-cleaning the décor. He gave an undignified snort when he heard Wrathion's question.

“No, not yet,” he admitted, “If I tell him, he'll want to meet you, and I don't think you're ready for that.”

“But you've met  _my_ father, and my  _other_ father,” Wrathion pouted, setting down his book and standing up to lean over the counter toward him, “and realistically you weren't  _prepared_ to meet either of them, and I think both meetings turned out very well.”

“I know, you're right,” Anduin sighed and looked up at him. He stared, almost in awe, at the way the sunlight hit those impossibly soft black curls, how it shone on his rich, smooth skin, reflected off the piercings in his ears...

“What are you doing?” Wrathion said after a moment, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen.”

“ _Ugh_ , Anduin, you can't distract me from the issue at hand with  _flattery_ .”

“I wasn't trying to. I'm sorry,” he reached out to take Wrathion's hand, “I'll tell him soon. I promise.” Wrathion gave him a satisfied smile.

They were reminded of their setting when the bell on the front door jingled.

“Good morning!” Anduin called out automatically in greeting. He looked up, and locked eyes with Victor Nefarian.

“Good morning,” he replied curtly, and turned to stalk down one of the aisles, his back facing them. Anduin was grateful for that; he knew he couldn't hide his expression for very long. Wrathion, evidently, felt the same. He looked up at him, eyes wide in fear, squeezing Anduin's hand in a death grip.

“Go help Tong in the back,” Anduin said, forcing himself to sound casual in case Nefarian could hear them, and gently removed his hand from Wrathion's. He opened his mouth to protest, but Anduin cut him off. “Don't complain. Just go. I can handle the register.”

Wrathion gave him a long, pained look before conceding and heading toward the back room.

_This has to be a coincidence_ , Anduin thought, watching the man perusing the shelves, _he can't know who we are_. Nefarian wandered for a few minutes before delicately sliding a book from its place on the shelf, and he approached the counter, handing it to Anduin directly.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Anduin put on his chipper work-attitude, and mentally kicked himself for the wording.

“Indeed,” Nefarian replied, and Anduin felt something within him shrivel up and die. His hope, mostly.

“That'll be $10.65.” Nefarian pulled out his wallet, removed a bill, then dug around in his pocket for some coins. Exact change. Anduin took it and tried to make it look like he was counting, but he couldn't focus on anything with Nefarian standing in front of him.

“Anduin,” he said slowly, sounding out each syllable as he read his name tag, “Ah, you must be a Wrynn.”

“No,” he lied quickly.

“Oh? My mistake then. No, I suppose what you  _are_ is a  _liar_ ,” he gave a barking laugh when Anduin's cheeks turned a faint pink. “Don't worry, I appreciate a bit of  _moxie_ in a cashier. So tell me,” he leaned in a bit closer, “where did the little prince run off to, then? You can't possibly tell me that he's afraid to face me, after everything the two of you have done.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Anduin said, surprising himself with the evenness of his voice. Without warning, Nefarian reached across the counter and grabbed his wrist, pulling roughly and forcing Anduin to bend uncomfortably across the counter. He tried to pull away, but Nefarian was strong. In his struggling, Nefarian gripped harder, causing him to give a small cry of pain.

“Did you two really think that I'd fall apart so easily?” he growled, leaning in closer to Anduin's face. “I'll admit, taking out my dear sister was admirable. She was very useful in my operations, so her loss  _will_ be felt. Though, I expected nothing less from my own son. Once Wrathion sees what I can offer him, he'll crawl to my side, and my work -  _our_ work - will be able to continue.”

“Wrathion would never join you,” Anduin glared, trying to make himself look fearsome despite the quite obvious power imbalance. “He's a good person. He wants to help people, not... whatever the hell it is that you do.”

“ _Help people_ ,” Nefarian sneered, “How precious. Well, he'll certainly be helping  _me_ . I built an empire for him, my  _heir_ . He won't turn that down. He isn't stupid,  _Anduin_ . Tell him that I'll be seeing him soon.” With that, Nefarian released his grip, sending Anduin scrambling backwards. With a final, arrogant smirk, Nefarian left the store. 

Anduin sank to the floor behind the counter, trying to catch his breath. He rubbed his wrist where Nefarian had held him, wondering vaguely if it was going to bruise, if he should heal it. He heard someone clear their voice above him. He looked up and saw an unusually stern-looking Tong, with Wrathion standing behind him quite sheepishly. He jumped to his feet.

“I don't know what trouble you boys have gotten into,” he said, gravely, “and I don't think that I  _want_ to know. Do you have a safe place you can go?” He nodded. “Good. Take Wrathion and go. I don't want to see you again until you've gotten this mess sorted out. And  _don't_ argue. I ran this shop for many years without you, I will do just fine.”

“Okay,” Anduin murmured, “Thanks, Tong.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Wrathion echoed, walking over to grip Anduin's arm and let himself be led to the exit.

“Anduin,” Tong called out to him, and he turned around. He stood behind the counter, holding Nefarian's book in one hand and his money in the other. “This is a five dollar bill and three pennies. Please get some rest.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they aren't listed in the relationship tags (i don't want anyone getting their hopes up), but this chapter contains implied/referenced varian/genn and jaina/sylvanas.

“Are we being followed?” Wrathion asked, glancing around a minute after they pulled out of the parking lot.

“I think so,” Anduin sighed, “I think I can lose them, though.”

“Hm, does mister ' _traffic laws exist for a reason_ ' know how to shake a tail?”

“Shut up,” Anduin couldn't suppress a small, disbelieving laugh.

A few minutes and suspicious traffic maneuvers later, Wrathion learned that Anduin could, in fact, shake a tail.

“So,” Wrathion began, fidgeting with some strings on his artfully distressed jeans, “where are we going?”

“Well, you wanted to meet my father, didn't you?” Anduin tried to keep his tone light, but he couldn't completely hide the nervous edge creeping into his voice. Wrathion had known, rationally, that that would be where they were heading; where else would Anduin go to hide out? But clearly he couldn't quite hide his nervousness either, because Anduin continued speaking.

“He's just a bit protective, you know. Jaina's met you, and she thinks you're something of a 'bad boy'” -Wrathion snorts- “and she's probably told him about that, since we live together and all. I've just told him that you're a good friend of mine, a bit _pompous_ but otherwise a good person.” Anduin's tone was teasing, now, but his face fell, ever-so-slightly. “We'll have to tell him about what we've been up to. He isn't going to be happy about it. I'm worried that he'll blame you for... putting me into harm's way, or something.”

“But I _did_ put you into harm's way,” Wrathion's voice was quiet. “You didn't want to any part of this, if you remember. In fact, you told me no, repeatedly, and only gave in once I made a costume.”

“That's not-” Anduin starts, struggling to find the right words. Wrathion was visibly upset, the worst thing he could do was stumble over his words and say something he may take the wrong way. “I want to be here. You're right; I was scared, at first. And I'm still scared. But you're my _best friend_ , and I guess the only thing that scares me more than Victor Nefarian is the idea of _you_ facing him alone.” He reached out and gently coaxed Wrathion's hand into his own.

“Ugh,” Wrathion said, halfheartedly, “when did you get so _sappy_?”

“We don't have to tell him that we're together, unless you really want to.”

“I think, perhaps, it'd be best to hold off on that. We don't want to drop too many bombshells at once. I think we've got enough secrets to keep him dazzled for a _while_.”

“He isn't going to be _dazzled_.” Anduin rolled his eyes, but again, he couldn't hide his amusement.

“Will you tell me about him?” Wrathion asked, with a small tilt of his head. “I don't want to go into this completely blind, you know,” he added quickly. He's posed the question as some sort of intel-gathering, but Anduin can sense that Wrathion has calmed down considerably since the start of the conversation. He wonders if Wrathion likes hearing him speak.

“He was a mercenary for a while,” Anduin knew that it wasn't the most logical place to start, but it was important. “I told you before that I was raised by my Aunt Jaina and Uncle Bolvar. I'm not actually related to either of them, but my dad basically grew up with Jaina. They've been close for almost their entire lives. He met Bolvar when he was a little older, but they were still really close. When my mother died, he sort of... went off the rails, according to Jaina. He was depressed. He drank a lot. When I was 8, he left and became a mercenary out west. That's when he became Lo'Gosh.”

“Eventually, though, I guess he figured that wasn't what he wanted. He came home two years later. Jaina was pissed, but I didn't care. I was just happy that my dad was back,” he said with a small chuckle. “Bolvar died not even a year later. It was hard, for both of us, but I think that pushed him to become a better father to me. He stopped drinking. He started going to... PTA meetings and all that. That's actually how he met Genn; they got into this _huge_ argument and had to be escorted from the building. Now they're best friends.” That earned a smile from Wrathion, who was watching him closely. Anduin wished that he could could his eyes off the road to do the same to him. “I think you're going to like him.”

“You mean, once he gets over the fact that I've _corrupted_ his son?” Wrathion gave him a sly grin. “Why aren't we going to Aunt Jaina instead, though? She seems like a very... formidable woman. Surely she could help us?”

“Yeah, she could,” Anduin scoffed, “but it's more likely that she'd put us in... _ice prisons_ for the rest of our lives. I swear, she's more protective than he is.”

“Hmph.”

The drive to Varian's house just a few miles north of the city was largely uneventful. It was in a densely wooded area, which his father enjoyed for the sense of seclusion, despite being only minutes from Stormwind. The sun was getting low, casting long shadows as they drove down the long, tree-lined driveway. The house itself was nice; modest, and so much nicer than the small apartment they'd shared for much of Anduin's life. Anduin had only lived in this house for a short time before moving in with Wrathion, but his memories of it were fond. Wrathion let go of his hand as he parked, next to his father's car. Wrathion noticed, for the first time on their drive, that Anduin seemed... worried.

“It's going to be okay,” he said softly, fighting the urge to take Anduin's hand again, lest they be seen by his father.

“I know.”

They climbed out of Anduin's car and made their way to the trunk to grab their duffle bags, each containing their respective costumes (and a spare set of clothes each, which Wrathion would gloat about later.) They made their way up the porch steps to the front door, and shared one final look before Anduin gave it a few sharp knocks. A few moments passed before he heard footsteps inside, the curtain of one of the nearby windows was pulled aside for just a split-second, then the door was unlocked and swung open.

“Anduin!” his father nearly shouted, pulling him into an almost literally bone-crushing hug.

“Hey, dad,” he said, with what little air remained in his lungs. His father pulled away, keeping his hands on his shoulders to look him over. “This is Wrathion, by the way.” Wrathion put on his most charming smile and held his hand out to Varian, who shook it.

Wrathion was... surprised. He'd never even seen Varian in photos, so he wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't this. He was taller than Anduin by a couple of inches, and his thick, messy ponytail was dark rather than Anduin's sunny blond, but other than that, Wrathion marveled at how similar they looked. Aside from the couple of heavy scars marring Varian's face, he realized that they had the same nose, and the same strong jawline.

“Wrathion,” Varian said, his voice neutral, “it's nice to finally meet you.” He seemingly noticed the bags slung over the shoulders, and his brow furrowed in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah!” Anduin said quickly, and Wrathion almost cringed at how obvious it was that Anduin was lying. _We'll work on lying later_ , he thought. “It's just... they found bedbugs in one of our neighbors apartments.” Varian glanced worriedly at their bags. “Not ours, of course! They checked. But they figured, better safe than sorry, so they're doing the whole place. You know how bedbugs are.” Anduin chuckled nervously. “I was hoping we could stay here for a day or two. If that's okay.”

“Of course, Anduin,” Varian smiled warmly, thankfully ignoring Anduin's dubious behavior, “You both can stay for as long as you need. Come on in. I should warn you though... Genn's staying over.”

“Oh!” Anduin was surprised, but not in a bad way. He liked Genn well enough. He knew it wouldn't have been appropriate for them to share the guest room anyway, but a small part of him mourned the fact that there was only one person-length couch in the house, which would be their only place to sleep if Genn would be taking the guest room. They followed Varian into the small entryway and Wrathion shut the door behind them. “We can take turns between the couch and the floor, then.” He smiled, giving Wrathion a gentle nudge.

“No, uh...” Varian, for perhaps the first time in Anduin's life, looked ever-so-slightly bashful, “The guest room's free. We're just getting started on dinner. Why don't you both go get your stuff put away, and I'll call you when it's ready,” he finished quickly.

“Thanks, dad,” he smiled, but Varian was already heading toward the kitchen at the back of the house. Once he was out of sight, Wrathion turned to him with his brows raised, and a very amused look on his face. “Come on.”

Anduin led him up the stairs in the entryway and to a bedroom off to the right, and quietly shut the door behind him.

“Are _they_ dating?” Wrathion whispered conspiratorially, grinning. “You never mentioned that.”

“I didn't know,” he hissed back, well-aware of the fact that he was blushing furiously. Wrathion cackled.

“Well, I don't know if he knows that _we're_ dating,” Wrathion sat down on the bed, “but he clearly isn't bothered by the idea of us sharing a room while we're here.”

“Yeah,” Anduin said quietly, and sat next to him. It was his old room, but not his bed; he'd been able to take much of his furniture when he left. Wrathion reached over and grabbed his hand to hold it in his lap, between his own.

“That's some pressure off, I suppose.”

“Wrathion, telling him that we're dating is the least of my worries right now,” Anduin sighed, hoping that didn't come out as harsh as he felt. Fortunately, Wrathion seemed to understand his fear. He didn't press Anduin to go on, and instead simply tilted his head to rest it on Anduin's shoulder. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Wrathion had taken to running gently running his nails up and down Anduin's arm, a pattern of movements that Anduin wasn't sure was even for him, and was likely more to satisfy Wrathion's need to fidget. He found it comforting nonetheless.

“It's just... really weird, you know?” Anduin spoke quietly; partially for fear of being overheard, but more-so because he couldn't bring himself to speak louder. “It's like we're different people. Like, there's _us_ , and then there's... the Black Prince and the White Pawn. I didn't think those two different worlds would come crashing together like this. And I guess we've technically always been in danger, since we started doing this, but this feels different, like Nefarian's taken something from us. We don't even know what he knows. He clearly knows _us_ , and he knows where we work, so he probably knows where we live. Who knows how long he's been watching us?”

“Anduin,” Wrathion said firmly, “it doesn't matter what he knows. Unfortunately, it's become painfully obvious that things haven't quite gone the way anyone expected. I don't know what assistance your father with be able to offer, other than a place to stay, so I'll get in touch with Fahrad and we'll try to come up with something. We aren't going to just hide and wait for him to go away; we're dealing with him, no matter what it takes. He'll pay for this. He'll pay for all of it.” With that, Wrathion turned his chin up to meet Anduin's lips. Anduin wouldn't dare do anything risque in his father's home, especially when they were expected to join him for dinner at some unspecified time in the near future, but he let Wrathion kiss him, as passionate as he ever was. Anduin felt calmer already. When Wrathion pulled away, Anduin thought for a moment and giggled.

“What?” Wrathion glared.

“I was just thinking about showing up for dinner in full-costume, you know? Just getting it out of the way, without having to actually say anything.”

“That sounds like a really, really awful plan,” Wrathion laughed quietly and shook his head. “I can't believe I've been trusting you to keep me alive all this time. Since we're obviously not doing that... whatever you say, make sure they know that this was all my doing.” He hesitated. “I don't need you taking credit for my hard work, you know.”

Anduin scoffed and shook his head, but he knew what Wrathion was doing; if his father didn't respond well to their admission, Wrathion was willing to take the blame for all of it. Anduin wouldn't let him, obviously, but... it did make him feel better. A bit.

Another 20 minutes passed before Varian called them down for dinner. Wrathion jumped to his feet and bounced on his heels as Anduin stood, much more slowly. Suddenly faced with the fact that this was happening, _right now_ , his anxiety returned in full force.

“Ugh, _Anduin_ ,” he groaned, moving to grab his hand to pull him to his feet, “We have to deal with this. I know it's hard, but we have to. I don't know if you missed it, but our lives may depend on this.”

Anduin just groaned loudly and tried to bury face in his hands.

“No!” Wrathion swatted his hands. “Damn it, I thought you were through this. Come _on_.”

Anduin frowed, which Wrathion pointedly ignored, and instead ushered him through the bedroom door. Fortunately, they made it down the stairs without incident, and with one final, mournful look, Anduin led him to the dining room.

Varian and Genn were already seated, with Varian at the head of the modestly-sized table, and Genn to his right. When they entered the room, Varian smiled softly at them while Genn stood and made his way over to them.

“Anduin! It's been far too long,” he smiled kindly and gave him a firm pat on the back before turning his attention to Wrathion. “And you're Wrathion. I've heard much about you.”

“Oh no,” Wrathion said with an almost teasing chuckled. Genn just snorted and returned to his seat, with Anduin following suit, taking the chair to his fathers other side. Wrathion sat next to him. They ate together in silence for a minute before Genn cleared his throat.

“Wrathion, Anduin has mentioned that you sew your own clothing. Are they still teaching that in schools nowadays? I had wondered if that was an art that would be lost on the younger generations.” Anduin almost sighed in relief; Genn was being amicable. In some respects, Genn could be just as fiercely protective as his own father. Anduin had always been somewhat flattering in his descriptions on Wrathion, but he didn't know what Jaina might've told them in passing.

“I'm afraid I can't answer that, as I was home-schooled. My- ” _don't say bodyguard_ , his mind helpfully reminded him, _they need to think you're normal_ , “- _auntie_ taught me much of what I know. I would always get so frustrated when shopping for clothes; there was always _something_ wrong. I figured I'd be much happier if I just did it myself. And I am.”

“Hm.” Genn didn't say anything more, and they sat in silence for a few minutes longer.

“I'm sorry I didn't call first,” Anduin said, turning to his father. “We just... left in a hurry, and Wrathion was really worried about the... _bedbugs_.”

“Don't worry about it. You know you're always welcome here, Anduin. Honestly, I wish you'd come out more often.”

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly feeling guilty. That feeling only added to the nerves he was already feeling, knowing what he'd have to tell him soon. _Not yet,_ Anduin thought, _I can enjoy a nice family dinner for just a bit longer before I ruin all of it._ “I've just been busy.” _Not technically a lie_ , he rationalized.

Wrathion, sensing the impending awkwardness, decided to speak up in the worst way possible.

“So, have you been following the news?” he said, slyly. “All of this _Blacktalon_ stuff is terribly exciting, isn't it?”

Anduin nearly choked on his steak, near enough that he started coughing, something he was grateful for, considering how he knew he'd be turning red by this point. Varian looked only mildly concerned and gave him a solid pat on the back, which didn't exactly help.

“I had the misfortune of knowing Katrana Prestor, years ago. It's been gratifying to see what's become of her.” Varian's statement was largely devoid of emotion. Genn grunted in agreement. He didn't allow the conversation regarding the Blacktalons to continue, however, as he turned and spoke lowly to Genn. He was asking about the specific method by which Genn had cooked the potatoes, Anduin noticed.

He took that opportunity to glance over at Wrathion, who was staring disbelievingly at him. Anduin knew that he should've taken that opportunity to say something, or maybe press the issue and get them to keep talking about it, until he talked himself into saying something... he was panicking again. _Maybe it's not the right time_ , he thought, _maybe I should speak to dad alone_. He was partway through convincing himself when he was startled by Genn's voice, clearly directed at him.

“Anduin,” he started gently, “you look like you want to say something.”

“If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine,” Varian assured him. “But, whatever's going on, we're here for you - _both_ of you- ... and we won't judge.”

_Shit_. Anduin could feel his heart racing, and wondered vaguely if he was going to faint. He almost wished he _would_ faint, just so he wouldn't have to do this right now. He looked over at Wrathion, who gave him a small, encouraging nod, though Anduin could see just the barest hint of nervousness on his face. He looked at Genn, and his father, who were both watching him expectantly.

“Um,” he started, and noticed that his voice sounded just as afraid as he felt. “It's us. Me and Wrathion are the ones who've been trying to take down Blacktalon, but now Victor Nefarian knows who we are, and he threatened Wrathion at work today, and we don't know what to do.”

“Threatened _me_?” Wrathion scoffed, pointedly trying to ignore whatever reactions Anduin's statement received. “You're the one who was manhandled.”

“Yeah, but he clearly only cares about you. You would've been _manhandled_ if you'd been there.”

Whatever witty retort Wrathion was about to spit out died when he heard the loud clank of Varian dropping his silverware onto his plate. Anduin jumped slightly at looked at his father. Varian didn't look _angry_ , more like gravely serious, but it made Anduin want to cower nonetheless. Genn shared a similar grim expression, though he seemed more inclined to let Varian handle the situation.

“Anduin,” Varian stood and, with a nod, motioned in the direction of his office. Anduin didn't need a second hint.

“ _Sorry_ ,” he whispered to Wrathion before getting to his feet and following his father out of the room.

* * *

“I saw, on the news, but I didn't think-” Varian cut himself off with a heavy sigh, leaning against the front of his desk. “I thought it was someone like you, and Velen. I didn't think that _was_ you.”

“That's kind of the point, right?” Anduin said lightly, and immediately wanted to kick himself.

“Anduin,” Varian practically growled, rubbing at his temples. “What the hell is going on?”

“Well,” Anduin thought for a moment, pleased to realized that it easier to find the right words, now that the bombshell was out of the way. “Wrathion had been doing it on his own, as the Black Prince. I had no idea that he was involved in any of that, until one night he came home with a stab wound. I healed him, and he asked me to be his partner and help him take down the Blacktalons, so... here we are.”

“Wrathion was _stabbed_ , and you thought it was a good idea to get involved?”

“No,” he admitted easily. “No, I thought it was a terrible idea. It took him weeks to convince me to join him. Wrathion was hellbent on taking them down, and I knew I'd never be able to talk him out of it, so I figured... he'd be safer if I went with him. We've had help from his dad, and his bodyguards, and so far, it's all gone well. We didn't even know that anything was wrong until Nefarian showed up at the shop today.” Varian just looked at him for a moment, his expression entirely unreadable, before sighing lightly and closing his eyes.

“You don't have to take his problems on yourself.”

“Yeah, I do. He's my best friend... and I love him. I can't make him do this by himself.”

Varian snorted. “That's what I expected to hear at dinner.” Anduin couldn't keep himself from a small smile. He thought for a few moments.

“What do we do now?” He had half-expected his father to yell at him, so he was relieved that he was so understanding. That just left the life-threatening issue to discuss.

“Honestly, I have no idea. It's possible that Nefarian's stunt today was just grandstanding. If Katrana really was the only thing keeping the police from making any moves against him, he's probably scared shitless.”

“According to Wrathion, the police are already watching him, and have been for a while.”

“Good. I'd like to think that Nefarian isn't stupid enough to try anything so soon after what happened with his sister. How much does he know about you both?”

“I have no idea,” Anduin quickly wracked his brain for any information that may be useful. “He knew me as a Wrynn, and the way he said it made me think that he knows who you are. When Wrathion and I left the store, we were definitely followed for a short while, but we lost them before we headed out this way. I'd assume that he knows where _we_ live, though.” Varian nodded.

“I think we'll be fine, for tonight at least,” Varian thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “I have half a mind to send you both to Jaina's and letting her deal with this.” Anduin wrinkled his nose.

“Her girlfriend scares me.”

“Yeah. But Jaina's always been such an advocate for people using their abilities for the greater good, or whatever, and this is what happens. She much more equipped to handle the logistics of this anyway.” He knew that his father wouldn't actually send him away- not that asking Jaina to handle everything would be the end of the world- so he just chuckled. “She'll be hearing about this first thing tomorrow, though. I wouldn't throw this all on her shoulders, but dealing with Nefarian... we'll need all the help we can get.

“Anduin, this very obviously _isn't what I want you to be doing_ ,” he ground out, “but... I'm proud of you. For helping your friend, or boyfriend, whatever. And for helping everyone who's ever suffered at the Blacktalon's hands.”

Anduin felt like a child, like he'd done something stupid and now had to rely on his father to clean up his mess, but... he felt lighter. Varian now knew what he and Wrathion had been up to the last few months, and Anduin knew that they'd made a much bigger mess than anyone was anticipating, but he felt safer. His encounter with Nefarian had shaken him to his core, but now, back home with his father, and Wrathion safe and sound just a room away, he knew that everything would be okay.

He was pulled from his thoughts by his father pulling him into a hug, a gesture too-rarely shared between them.


	14. Chapter 14

“Anduin?” He heard Wrathion voice whisper softly, soft enough not to wake him if he'd been asleep, his lips almost brushing his ear. They'd both been trying to sleep, but evidently, they were both failing.

“Hm?”

“Are you awake?” Wrathion whispered again, and Anduin chuckled.

“Yeah,” he replied a bit louder, though still quiet enough not to risk disturbing his father and Genn in their room at the other end of the hallway. The room was certainly far enough away that it shouldn't be a problem, but Anduin didn't want his voice to carry in the dead silence. Wrathion waited a few moments before speaking again.

“I heard what Nefarian said, you know,” Wrathion scooted away from Anduin's back and prompted him to roll over and face him. “Tong knew something was wrong as soon as I went back there. We both listened at the door. I heard what he said about me being the _heir_ to his _empire_. I'm not falling for it. If I want an empire, I'll make it myself, but I'm not taking a damn thing from him.”

“I wasn't worried.” Anduin smiled for a moment, then rose a bit to lean over and kiss him. Wrathion happily reciprocated. After a few long moments, they separated, and Anduin spoke again. “Father will be calling Jaina in the morning. She's... probably going to be upset, so be ready for that. Dad doesn't want us going back to the apartment by ourselves, so he and Genn will take us over at some point tomorrow to grab some essentials.” Wrathion hummed in agreement.

“Fahrad's sent Right and Left over to keep an eye on the place, from afar. I'll check in with them before we head over, make sure everything looks safe.”

“Good,” Anduin smiled again. “If my father is right, we have some time to figure this out. I don't know what ridiculous plan you and Fahrad have been cooking up, but... we have time.” Wrathion tried to return his easy smile, but he faltered.

“What if he isn't, though?” he practically whispered. “Nefarian _could_ be on his best behavior until some of the attention dies down, _or_ he could realize that he has nothing left to lose. Desperation can drive people to do wicked things, Anduin.” Wrathion closed his eyes, brows furrowed. “Did I tell you what I heard him say, that night I was stabbed? He'd instructed them to capture me alive. Why would he want that?”

“Because he thinks he can sway you to his side?” Anduin whispered back. Wrathion _hadn't_ told him that before. It made him a little nauseous. “But you won't fall for it.”

“I won't,” Wrathion said, firmly. “But... what happens then, when he realizes that I won't?”

“Wrathion, we don't need to be thinking about things like that tonight.”

“It's exactly what we need to be thinking about. What would he do to you? You're just as involved-”

“ _Wrathion_ ,” Anduin cut him off and nearly winced at how how desperate he sounded, “please. Stop. We don't need to be thinking about this. _We're going to be okay._ We're safe here, and we have our families to help us. I promise you, we'll be okay.” For a split-second, Wrathion looked as if he'd argue, but he steeled himself.

“Fine,” Wrathion sighed, somehow managing to make that single word sound as haughty and stubborn as Anduin knew he could be. “But I _will_ hold you to that. If we die, I'm blaming you.”

Anduin laughed quietly, and leaned over to kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away. The room was dark, but... was Wrathion blushing?

“Hm. Good. I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... that's it! if you actually read the whole dang thing, you're a hero, and i love you. like, for reals. 
> 
> i'm thinking about exploring this AU, both as a followup to this story and following other characters in this universe, but we'll see. i've gotten weirdly into that stupid wranduin skyrim au i wrote a bit ago, so i kinda want to see where that goes. 
> 
> anyway, thanks for checking this out. <3


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